


Victory Lap Disposition

by Flash314



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward!Keith, Barn Sleepovers, Coran Coran the Shipping Man ™, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Ft. Shiro Being Hot ™, Inspired by lack of horse AUs in this fandom, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith is an emo piece of shit, Lance (Voltron) Has ADHD, Lance in Sparkles, Langst, M/M, Show Queen Allura, Slow Burn, Smol Gremlin Pidge, Spportive best friend hunk, They all have horses, but same lol, competitive!Lance, equestrian AU, fixing Keith's hair is a Team Effort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-10-28 04:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10823550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flash314/pseuds/Flash314
Summary: “Blue and I are on a mission. We’re gonna take Keith Kogane down!”Allura’s eyes widened for a moment. “About that..” she said. Lance threw his leg over Blue, sliding down her side. “Yes?” he asked. Allura dropped her gaze downward. “I have some news.”“...Yes?” Lance prodded after a bit.“Keith Kogane is joining Altea Performance Horses.”Lance McClain is 17, with one year left in his youth horse showing career. As the reserve world champion at this year’s world show, he and his horse Blue have one goal: take down the champion, an arrogant, rich brat (with a mullet!), Keith Kogane, and get the victory lap Lance has dreamed of for a decade. Their plans are disrupted, however, when the very boy they set out to beat joins his barn. On the long trip to next World Show, Lance finds out… appearances can be deceiving.Quiet isn’t always arrogant. Accomplished isn’t always rich. And rivalry isn’t always hatred. In fact, sometimes it can lead to something else entirely.Some things are all a matter of perspectiveUpdates whenever we get around to it lmao





	1. (Not Quite) On Top of the World

**Author's Note:**

> Here are a few terms and notes you may need to know to help understand some terminology better. ;)
> 
> Hunter Hack- a jumping class judged by both ground work and over jumps. (English)  
> Western Horsemanship- a class in which riders ride their horses through a pattern in the western style  
> Posting- when the rider rises up and down on the horses back in time with their legs  
> Trot- an extended two beat gait

The sixteen finalists had all at last settled along the rail, some successful riders clutching their small certificates showing their individual placings, other less fortunate ones crossing their fingers for a lucky top ten. The horses shifted and stomped uneasily, tired of standing in the arena and bored by the seeming inaction.  
Lance reached down and petted his horse with his left hand, having handed off his certificates to his trainer. He couldn't contain his smile. The youth 14-18 horsemanship class was notoriously tough, and World Show brought out the cream of the crop. Just making finals was an accomplishment. But this...  
He looked back at the colored slips Allura, his angel of a trainer, held in her hand, pausing for a moment to return her elated laugh. Three firsts, a fourth, and a fifth? Sure, there was some inconsistency in the placings, but that was incredible!  
Beneath him, Blue shifted impatiently. Lance reached down and stroked her sleek neck just below the meticulously done bands which ran along the top. Blue was an absolute angel. She'd carried him through his nerves in the preliminary round, and been there with him every step of the way in their complicated finals pattern. This wasn't what she was bred for- Blue was by a famous hunt seat stallion, HBF Iron Man, and stood 16.3 hands tall. She was English through and through. Yet the eight year old mare, calm beyond her years, bore with Lance's unwillingness to COMPLETELY massacre his masculinity and show breeches... for now, at least, suffering through the western classes.  
No matter what, this had been a great class. But... something was nagging Lance. He knew he'd finished incredibly high in the final points standings, but... what show kid hasn't dreamed of a world championship? And... this might be the only shot Lance ever had at one. Had he, just maybe... won the World? He couldn’t be sure. He’d been to shocked and excited to pay attention to his competitors’ placings. There was definitely a chance, though...  
One by one, the pen emptied. In a booming voice, the announcer called out finalists, then the top 10, each horse and rider team exiting as their names and number were called. When the announcer reached the top 5, Lance looked over to the bleachers behind him where his barn mates sat. Allura, his trainer, was sniffling and clutching at the hand of Shiro, her assistant. Hunk, Lance's best friend and ranch-horse extraordinaire, was grinning widely, looking happier than Lance had ever seen him. Pidge, Altea Performance Horses' token walk-trotter, had put her phone away for once and was perched excitedly on her chair. The little dork had already won two titles herself this show, as well as the reserve overall, but she was still smiling excited for Lance's (potential) victory.  
"And now, we enter the top 3. Placing third, and winning a top 5 halter, courtesy of Big H saddlery. A top 3 letter jacket patch, courtesy of the American Junior Paint Horse Association. Therapeutic bell boots, from EZ Flow USA. And a four hundred dollar scholarship, sponsored by the Paint Horse Journal... number 2047, Samantha Kline and Zippen Tothe Party!"  
Lance leaned down to pat Blue once again, feeling tears prick at his eyes. Since he'd gone to his first horse show at age 7, he'd dreamed of one day winning a World Show belt buckle. Now... he'd made it in the top 2. A buckle was a guarantee. And in horsemanship, no less- probably the most prestigious class!  
"And now. Your reserve world champion in youth 14-18 horsemanship-"  
Would he get to do a victory lap?  
"From a class of 78-"  
Lance had always wanted a victory lap.  
"Please congratulate-"  
God, he wanted to be first. Either way, he was so, so happy, but... to win...  
"2178, Lance McClain and Iron On Magic!"  
Oh.  
It was all good.  
It was great. It was incredible! He was a reserve world champion! His grin was out of control. He smiled wildly as he accepted his huge check, his silver buckle, and his congratulations. Blue pricked her ears beautifully for the picture. Everything was wonderful. But...  
He walked all the way out, still ecstatic, only turning around near the exit gate to see his (rival) fellow competitor accept their award.  
"Ladies and Gentlemen-"  
Ugh. His horse was nice. Way-too-expensive nice. Feed-a-small-country purchase price nice.  
"Your World Champion-"  
Rich brat. The guy probably didn't even saddle his own horse! He sat stock still as they announced, too, not even smiling, just lightly stroking in front of his horse's withers.  
"In the youth 14-18 horsemanship-"  
Rich punk.  
"Number 2071-"  
Spoiled brat who didn't deserve his admittedly gorgeous horse.  
"Keith Kogane and GSR A Real Prince!"

Next year... Lance would be back. He only had one year after this. One more World Show. And screw it. He'd show in breeches. He'd show every damn class he could. Because this was addictive.  
This rush, the feeling of all the pain, and hunger, and soreness, and frustration, and anger, and sheer time and effort, of all of the fruits of your labour becoming so completely, fully worth it? It was better than Lance could have ever dreamed.  
Only one thing marred this perfection the wistful smiles he got as he walked past, the magnificent ribbon dangling around Blue's neck as he walked through the aisles back to the stalls.  
He was thrilled with how he’d done. But Lance knew he could do better. He knew he could win. And he would. Next year, that victory lap was his, guaranteed. He’d work for it, pour even more blood, sweat, and tears into it. Whatever it took, Lance would do it. Because that victory high?  
This was i n t o x i c a t i n g . And he hadn't even gotten that victory lap- yet.

\--------------------------------------------------------  
Red and yellow ribbon still dangling around Blue’s dappled grey neck and euphoria still in Lance’s heart, he guided Blue back to the warm-up pen where he knew his barnmates would meet him soon. Behind him, he heard the clip-clop of hooves down the concrete alleyway.  
He turned in his saddle, grinning broadly at the rider behind him. Sure, Lance may have had some bitter thoughts in the pen, but this Keith Kogane guy couldn't have been too bad. After all, his horse was pretty gorgeous. No one who rode that well could be too b-  
Holy McFuck. Is that a mullet?  
“Uhh… hey! Congratulations!” Lance sang out, still a bit thrown off by the terrible hairstyle. He just left that hanging out of his hat? Boy. Allura would murder. But… wait… What was this guy’s deal? Keith just sat there, not even looking at Lance. The guy didn’t even look excited that he’d won the fricking world!  
“Hey! I said congrats? Ya know, cuz you won the world? And you're kinda supposed to say it back? Because I got RESERVE?!” Lance’s smile faltered and he became indignant. “What's your deal, man?”  
The mysterious mulleted Keith simply gave what appeared to be a death glare and muttered something under his breath. “Jeez! Well. Good job, anyways. Even if you are kinda standoffish. Jerk,” Lance made sure the last bit was too quiet for Keith to hear. Maybe Keith was an asshole, but Lance McClain’s mama had raised a gentleman- even when dealing with snobby rich mullet brats.  
Just because he was such a fancy rider with such an expensive horse, Keith Kogane thought he could be a douche? He thought a world championship elevated him above everyone else. “We'll see about that, Blue,” Lance told his horse, still quietly.. “Just wait. We’ll show ‘em.”  
As heated as his rude rival had gotten him, Lance soon forgot all about it. How could he focus on a stupid rivalry when he was being pulled into a massive hug, Allura’s silver hair tickling his face, Shiro’s prosthetic arm cold against his neck and Pidge’s glasses poking into his ribcage, Hunk’s headband brushing his temple, and, most importantly, Blue, that amazing, remarkable reserve world champion, blowing warm breath into his ear? This barn was his home. They were his best friends and part of why he rode and showed. They were definitely what had gotten him here.  
What would I do without them? Lance wondered, breathing in the calming scent of horses and fly spray and dust and love.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
"Noooooo!" the students chorused Allura's stern glance. "Heck yeah," muttered Pidge as the others glared at her. Hunk cleared his throat. "Technically, I'm a ranch guy. My leg position isn't a biggie, so I'll just..."  
"Drop. Your. Stirrups." Allura's fierce tone brooked no argument. Lance sighed and wiggled his feet out of the metal irons, looking enviously at Hunk in his western saddle. "Allura, we got back from World Show less than two weeks ago. Everyone except for the invincible gremlin here is still dead or dying inside. Where's our well deserved break?"  
Allura fixed her sharp, icy blue eyes on Lance. Her gaze softened almost imperceptibly as she looked them over. "You did do well. Five World Show buckles between the three of you is quite remarkable." The riders grinned at each other. "But next year, we're going to do even better! Now, before I kill one of you, inside and out. Trot! Lance, Pidge, posting trot. Hunk, let's see Molly's extended trot. Move it! Move it!"  
The horses and their riders dispersed, Blue and Diablo setting off into a brisk, collected trot, Molly slipping into a slightly quicker than normal jog.  
"Move her out a bit more, Hunk. You really need to plus your extensions to give you that extra winning boost in the ranch pleasure." Allura nodded as Hunk grimaced and clucked to the mare, forehead furrowing in concentration as he struggled to keep a balanced seat atop the quickly moving mare.  
"Pidge, soften your post. I appreciate your leg strength, but the judges are looking for a smooth and strong rider," Allura called.  
"Got it!" The ever enthusiastic Pidge called back, struggling to smooth out her post. Lance bit the inside of his cheek, thighs burning ferociously from the strain of lifting himself up and down in the tiny saddle. Posting was hell- it required so much coordination and muscle, it wasn't even real. And without stirrups, you were working pretty much solely out of your thighs.  
"Lance..." The person in question tensed, somewhat terrified to hear Allura's criticism. He'd told her he was ready to start showing English, so- while he had ridden English before- he was prepared to experience a whole new level of pain.  
"Not bad. Not bad at all, actually. Tighten your lower leg, and really work on your heel, but... I'm proud of you, Lance!" He allowed himself a smile and reached down to stroke Blue’s neck, turning his attention to holding his calf still and in perfect position.  
“Heels!” Allura yelled across the arena. All of the students instantly hastened to jerk their heels downwards, stretching their calf muscles until they burned fiercely. It wasn't long before Lance hit his Breaking Point™- that is, the point in which his every muscle screamed in agony, his skin burned, the heat was overwhelming- the moment when he absolutely couldn't keep it up anymore.  
But he did. He pictured that obnoxious, snobby mullet with his push-button horse, coasting to a victory on the ride his parents’ money had bought. Keith Kogane. Lance would not forget. He was the better rider, and he and Blue had a real connection. And next World Show, he would prove it. But for now…  
“Excellent, Lance! Keep your heel just like that. But…” Allura’s voice trailed off mischievously. “Uh-oh…” Lance groaned, slightly terrified by the smirk on his trainer’s face. “Um… Allura… whatever you’re about to say or do, we can talk about this. We can work it out! I swear! I’ll be good! No more pick-up lines, no more flirting, just spare me, please, I BEG OF YOU!”  
By the end of his over the top monologue, Lance was yelling and the others were laughing. Allura, however, simply kept smiling and made some sort of gesture to the equally suspicious Shiro. At this apparent signal, Altea Performance Horse’s muscular assistant trainer leaned down and grabbed two striped poles, hefting them over his shoulder and walking to the center of the pen. There, Allura waited with two jump standards.  
“Aw, hell,” Lance said quietly. Hunk heard him and laughed. “Good luck, brother,” he called as he whizzed past on his golden ranch horse, her tail fluttering behind her like a banner. From the opposite end of the arena, Lance heard Pidge’s demonic cackle of a laugh, along with the occasionally “lucky bastard”.  
“Pidgey! Do we use those words around here?” he called teasingly. “Well, Allura and Shiro do when you flirt with them. Hunk does when you’re stressing him out by being a reckless lunatic. My brother does when- well, my brother doesn’t need an excuse. But yeah, it seems like you bring out the sailor in all of us.” She grinned at him in that special way of hers which projected sass a hundred yards away.  
Lance sighed. “That little b-”  
“Do NOT finish that sentence if you know what is good for you, Lance McClain.”  
“WhAT?! But… Pidge.. What… Allura, no… This isN’T RIGHT I HAVE MY RIGHTS-”  
Shiro sighed and glared at them, exasperated, looking for all the world like a disappointed father. “Lance, shut up and listen to Allura. Allura, stop trying to beat him with his reins. Thank you. Now, focus on the task at hand, guys.” Allura smiled sweetly at him, while Lance rolled his eyes in the background. “Thanks, Shiro. Yes. Lance, I believe you are ready.”  
“O...Okay?” Lance remarked after an awkward pause. “To start jumping!” Allura shrieked, sounding as if Lance should have known. To be fair, the poles and jump standards were a bit of a giveaway. “O...Okay!” He shifted in his saddle, uneasy. “I mean, are you sure, guys? I haven’t even shown English on the flat yet-”  
“Lance!” Hunk bellowed. “Lance, you and Blue are smokin’. You’re A-Team. You guys are ready for this! You’re going to blow it out of the water. And c’mon, man. What’s Rule Number 1 of showing horses?”  
“The trainer is always right!” everyone in the arena yelled out with varying degrees of enthusiasm. “Thank you, Hunk. Now Lance. Let’s see… You can have your stirrups back. Now shorten your reins- more, more, there! Alright. Now posting trot circle down on the far end of the arena, and keep Blue’s head and shoulders up and keep her alert.”  
“Head up?” Lance said doubtfully. “Yes. For once, head up. They can’t make it over the jumps without some upward leverage.” Allura explained. “Makes sense. Wait a sec- has Blue ever jumped before?” Lance’s eyes grew wide as he began to have second thoughts again.  
“She’ll be fine,” Shiro said, lifting a pole into a jump cup so the pole was secure on the standard. “It’s in her blood. Blue was born for the English. She’s just been waiting for you to get with the program.” Lance giggled, less at Shiro’s remark than from sheer nervous energy. He complied with Allura’s directions, keeping his reins tight enough that he could feel Blue at the end, awaiting his instruction.  
Finally finishing with the jump set up, Shiro stepped back and nodded at Allura. She turned to Lance. “Okay. We’re ready. Now, take a deep breath, heels down, chin up, and point Blue at the jump. Make sure you keep breathing, keep your eyes on the skyline ABOVE the jump, and for the love of all things holy, grab her mane when you go over the jump. That’ll keep you from accidentally tearing her mouth open.”  
Lance followed her instructions. Keeping Blue at a brisk trot, he set a course for the lone jump standing in the center of the arena. With every stride towards it, the obstacle seemed to loom higher and higher. “Eyes up!” Allura commanded him. Lance jerked his chin up, fixing his gaze on a far off line of trees. “Speed up a little, straight line, good, okay, okay… Lift yourself out of your seat a little, heels down, CHIN UP, and… grab mane! Up and over! Hold on!”  
With a lurch, Blue snapped her knees up to her chest and far overshot the pole raised 18 inches above the ground. She surged into the air, knocking Lance out of his saddle awkwardly. Just as Allura had said, winding his fingers tightly in Blue’s steely mane had been the only thing keeping his wildly moving hands from unintentionally ripping at the bit in her mouth. He jolted again as she struck the ground, the momentum from her jump urging her into a canter.  
Lance could hear the blood rushing through his ears like a distant waterfall. Each hoofbeat stood out distinctly in his mind. His hands and legs felt numb, his body somewhat frozen. That had been terrifying! But… “Can I go again?” he asked Allura, who laughed. “Yeah, just circle and head at it again. This time, a little more speed. If she canters off, let her. And give her a bit more freedom. She knows more than you’re giving her credit for.” Lance nodded, then refocused his attention on his horse. The exertion was making the veins stand up beneath her silver coat, but when he trotted her back off, she frisked her tail in happiness. This was Blue’s element.  
They headed at the jump again, and this time, Lance was much more ready. It didn’t seem to turn into the Eiffel Tower as they headed up to it this time, which was definitely reassuring. “C’mon, Blue, “ he whispered, lightly tapping her sides with his heels. They picked up a bit more pace, and he felt the mare shift into a canter, forelegs working in unison to propel her towards the pole. With Allura’s guidance, he held his position, reins tight, chin up, heels down, and hands entangled in Blue’s mane. They reached the jump, Blue stretching her stride out before it instinctively, and-  
Flying. Their second attempt was much smoother, better. One swift hop over it, no strangely timed half halts and surges of speed, just a horse and her rider soaring (18 inches, but still) above the ground, nearly a ton of weight lifted into the air at a single cue. Lance smiled, feeling the rough impact of Blue’s hooves thudding against the ground. “Woohoo!” yelled Hunk. “Nice job!” Allura called at him. “That REALLY didn’t suck!” Pidge shouted, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Pretty good for your second time,” Shiro told him, placing a hand on Blue’s saddle pad as Lance pulled her up next to the two trainers.  
“Walk her out,” Allura advised him, observing the sheen of sweat covering her and the rapid rise and fall of Blue’s sides. “Then you two are done for today. Good job, Lance. You’ve really brought it together.” Lance doffed an imaginary hat at her. “Why thank you, princess!” He leaned down and stroked Blue, disregarding the sweat coating her neck. “Blue and I are on a mission. We’re gonna take Keith Kogane down!”  
Allura’s eyes widened for a moment. “About that..” she said. Lance threw his leg over Blue, sliding down her side. “Yes?” he asked. Allura dropped her gaze downward. “I have some news.”  
“...Yes?” Lance prodded after a bit.  
“Keith Kogane is joining Altea Performance Horses.”


	2. Welcomed with (Fairly) Open Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Western Riding- a class which is mainly lead changes and is judged on control and smoothness.  
> Bridle- a piece of riding equipment that goes on the horse’s face and allows the rider control over the horse’s head position.  
> Bit- a piece of the bridle that goes into the horse's mouth  
> Saddle- a piece of riding equipment that goes on the horse's back and the rider sits on to maintain balance easier.  
> Halter- a piece of equipment which goes around the horse’s head and allows it to be easily held, led, and controlled.  
> Crossties- a set of leads, one on each side of the horse, which attach to the halter and hold the horse in place to be groomed, saddled, etc.  
> Green- a horse new to a class or not yet completely broke  
> Canter- an extended three beat gait  
> Lope- a slow three beat gait  
> Jog- a slow two beat gait

12:05 PM Allura: Lance, you’re coming out to ride at 3:00, correct?  
12:07 PM Lance: hi Shiro. Also yes  
12:08 PM Allura: How’d you know? And alright. May I call you?  
12:08 PM Lance: Allura doesnt type like she’s writing a dissertation. I’m in class. Whats up tho?  
12:12 PM Lance: Shiro?  
12:13 PM Allura: Hello, it’s really me now, I was riding and having Shiro text for me.  
12:13 PM Lance: ah okay. Well what’s up?  
12:14 PM Allura: Keith is bringing his horse today. Not that I doubt you, but play nice? He’d be a great addition to Team Voltron.  
12:14 PM Lance: lol are we still using that name? And no worries llura, I gotchu  
12:15 PM Lance: I mean Im a lil salty the guy ignored me but I’m not gonna be flat out rude to him ya know?  
12:15 PM Lance: not really my thing  
12:15 PM Allura: I know. Sorry to bring it up, just had to make sure. He’ll be out sometime during your lesson. 3:30 ish? PS- that name is graffitied onto our trailer. Yes, we are “still using” it. Unless you’d like to buy us a new one?  
12:24 PM Lance: k. Teacher’s watchin now, gotta b careful. I’ll be good, promise. And pass, Im Hispanic, remember? We gotta save up for a wall :P  
12:24 PM Lance: seeya then  
12:25 PM Allura: Alright. See ya then Lance :) 

Lance scowled down at his phone. Was going speechless for a good minute, then screaming until Pidge took her spurs off and hurled them at him really THAT big of a deal? Apparently so. Sheesh. But even with that! What kind of a person did they think he was? He was petty, not cruel! His frown deepened as he caught his boss glaring at him suspiciously from the front of the room. Dear God. Lance craned his neck to peer at the clock. 12:27. Two more hours of this torturous boredom. Two. More. Hours.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Sighing, Lance stretched his arms, yawning hugely as he crawled out of his small grey Camry. It was so wonderful to be able to actually drive himself. He’d had his license for nearly a year now, but it had taken a while to find the money for Lance to get a car. He’d paid half of the $8,000 price, and it was worth every penny. There was something so liberating about being able to get places independently- without siblings chaperoning or clinging on. There was also a terrifying element to it, too, though, seeing as Lance was TEN MINUTES LATE! He was normally on top of things, but his boss had made him stay late for being on his phone. What did it matter?! The (nonexistent) work had gotten done! Ugh.  
Slamming the door behind him, he made a quick scan of the pastures, unsure if he’d find Blue out grazing or in her stall still. It was past noon, but the sun was still scorching, and Allura was a stickler about keeping her horses coats healthy, which meant keeping them out of the burning sun. She must have relaxed her usual standards, though, because Lance spotted a steely gray figure out in the pasture a decent walk away. “Blue!” he called to her. She flicked her tail, but otherwise ignored him resolutely. Lance sighed again. Worth a shot.  
As he trekked out to her, grabbing her bright blue halter off of the gate, Lance was distracted by the rumbling of a truck and a small trailer down Allura’s gravel driveway. That must be the infamous mullet Keith Kogane and his expensive-ass horse. Surprisingly, the vehicle rolling down the road didn’t seem too ostentatious. Perhaps he didn’t want to sully his nice truck and trailer, Lance mused, somewhat unfairly. After all, he hadn’t technically even had a conversation with the guy yet- not for lack of trying on Lance’s part, but still. He should withhold judgement Well, whatever. It could wait.  
Lance turned back to the paddock and was pleasantly surprised to see his lanky grey mare meandering her way towards him at a slow walk. “Hey, girl. Did you decide you wanted to see me after all?” She exhaled sharply through her nose, flicking her ears and lowering her head to graze again. “Aaaand… I jinxed that. One of these days, Blue, you’ll love me,” Lance told her, closing the gap between them and struggling to pull her head away from the grass in order to put her halter on. Finally discouraged, Blue allowed him to buckle the strap over her head easily and walked alongside him back to the barn.  
Lance hummed to himself as they made the trip back, Blue pricking up her ears at the familiar sound. She paused for a moment just outside the stall area, head lifting and nostrils flaring as she caught scent of the new horse. “That’s Keith Kogane’s horse, Blue baby. You remember him from World Show?” After a few moments, she lowered her head again, never much one for dramatics- unlike her owner. They entered the barn, Lance leading Blue up to the central crossties. As he clipped the snaps onto either side of her halter, Lance was distracted by the clip clop of hooves on concrete- another horse entering the barn.  
He turned, a hand on Blue’s neck. Into the barn, looking rather angry and somewhat confused, entered Keith Kogane, muttering quietly either to himself or his horse. And oh. Oh, God. His horse.  
His ears were pricked forward as he walked under the barn, pointing sharply towards Blue once he saw her. A lopsided brilliant white blaze ran down his flawlessly formed, delicate head, a long, deep chestnut forelock draped across his huge brown eyes. He was muscular and tall, probably at least 16 hands, with legs long enough for that remarkable stride Lance remembered envying at World Show. White and deep red were splashed across the horse’s smooth, shiny coat like expensive paint on a canvas. Only after gawking at this beautiful specimen for a solid minute was Lance able to spare another glance for the horse’s owner.  
Oh, Lord give me strength. It is a mullet. “Uhhh…” Keith stuttered out, not meeting Lance’s eyes. The guy’s hair was pretty great, except for the style- dark and thick and wavy. “Keith?” Lance asked, though he already knew who it was. “Uh, yeah,” Keith said quietly, finally darting his eyes up to Lance. He still looked angry, but maybe that was just because of how dark his eyes were. And his pale skin. Does he ever go outside? “I’m Lance. But we know each other.”  
Keith cocked his head, looking confused. “You know? Me? Lance?” Lance said, voice rising. “Uh… no…” Keith mumbled. “WHAT? You don't remember ME? You know, Lance and Keith, rivals, neck and neck?! Me? LAAAANCE?” Keith shook his head, dropping his eyes again. Lance gaped at him.  
The awkwardness intensified as the silence continued. Finally, Lance snapped. “Your horse is gorgeous!” He blurted, unsure what to say. Keith was so awkward! Lance was usually pretty smooth, but this jerk’s social ineptitude was rubbing off on him already!  
That remark, however, seemed to do the trick. Keith’s heavy scowl lifted into… not quite a smile, but at least neutrality. “Thanks,” he replied at a much more normal decibel level, stroking his horse’s neck as he spoke. “This is Ferrari.” Nothing douchey about that name, eh? “Nice. This is Blue,” Lance informed him, gesturing to his horse. “She’s the one true love of my life.” Not even a smile. Instead, Keith lifted his eyebrow, looking equal parts confused, concerned, and unnerved. “Joking, joking. I’m not that weird.” Keith nodded at that. Jeez, this guy. Did he completely lack a sense of humor?  
After yet another awkward pause, Lance inhaled sharply. “Well, I suppose you’re looking for Allura.” Keith looked up, seeming to be startled. “Yeah, yes, please.” Lance started humming again. “Alright, let’s go find her.” He patted Blue on the neck and ducked under the rope, walking over to Keith. “We can take Ferrari here with us. Anyone that gorgeous is always welcome by me,” he told him, winking at the gelding. The horse snorted, ducking away from the kiss Lance blew at him. Lance stopped in his tracks, blinking at him. “Rude,” he commented.  
Guess I know where he got it, though… After all, his owner’s an even bigger douchebag. Just as Lance thought it, though, he saw Keith duck his head, dark bangs flying into his face. Does he think I'm stupid, or is he laughing? Either way… “Alright, sure, laugh at my rejection. Nothin’ rude about that, either. Hmph,” he said, sauntering out. A few strides later, he looked back to where Keith stood with Ferrari, looking like an angry toddler. “I was kidding, man. Follow me. We’re going to get Allura.”  
They walked out together to the sandy arena, Lance spotting Allura leaning against the rail. “There she is,” he said, pointing ahead. “And that's Shiro next to her- our assistant trainer.” The two turned when they saw Lance and Keith walking towards them, smiling brightly.  
“Keith!” Allura cried. “You're early! Nevermind that, though. That's wonderful! And your horse is beautiful, too!” Shiro looked him up and down, then scanned his horse. “Welcome,” he said, extending a hand to shake. It was his prosthetic one, but Keith only hesitated for a moment in shock before shaking the hand without any more reluctance . So, he kinda sucks, but he isn’t all bad.  
“It's great to see you! Here, I'll show you where to- actually, Lance?” Allura spun on him. “Huh? Yeah?” he replied, taken off guard, snapping back to attention at his trainer’s voice.  
“Ferrari’s going to go in the stall right next to Blue, down on the end. Can you show Keith where it is? There's water and hay already in there, he can just let him settle in.”  
“Alright. Will do. Keith, right this way,” Lance said with a flourish, while inside he smoldered at the way Keith sighed when Allura sent him off with Lance again. Admittedly, Allura was hot, but was Lance just SO FAR beneath Keith that his very presence repulsed him?!  
Asshole. Nevertheless, Lance led him back to the barn. When they reached the place where Blue was tied, Lance unclipped one side of her halter and scooted her over to the side to allow Keith and Ferrari to pass. Blue nosed at the chestnut horse’s hip as he passed, always eager to make friends. Ferrari snorted and shied away.  
“S’okay Blue,” Lance whispered to her. “His owner’s the same way.” Blue tossed her head as he clipped her back up. Lance made his way over to the stall and watched as Keith released Ferrari and allowed him to explore the stall. Admittedly, Lance was curious. Why had Keith moved from his old barn to this one? Was he loaded? He must be, to buy a horse like Ferrari. How old was he? Did he SERIOUSLY not remember Lance?  
But Lance was petty. Petty enough to convince himself that he DIDN’T care, and just carry on about his business. He curried Blue’s already slick coat, churning the dust to the surface, then slicked her off with a soft body brush. He saddled quickly, throwing a Western saddle on this time. As much fun as jumping had been, neither Lance’s legs nor his nerves were prepared to do it again- at least, not yet.  
Before he could get much further, however, he was assaulted by an auburn haired blur. “Hey, Lance… You seen the new horse yet? He looks suspiciously like the horse that rude mullet-boy rode at World Show. The one that smoked you in the horsemanship? Wait a sec… Who are you?”  
Pidge stopped suddenly to turn to Keith, hand on her hip, glaring up at him. “Uh… Keith,” he mumbled, looking slightly threatened. Pidge’s eyes grew wide. “YOU’RE the mullet man? I knew it. Rude.” Keith looked offended. “It’s… I don’t have a mullet.” Pidge lifted an eyebrow at him. “Oh, okay,” she said, in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, I’m off. See you around, mullet-man, I guess. Come see me if you need stall cleaning tips, since I doubt you have much experience with that.” Pidge sauntered off, sly smirk on her face as she headed out to the pastures. Keith looked puzzled at what the girl meant by the last remark. “That’s Pidge. She’s our novice gremlin,” Lance informed Keith, who was frozen still.  
“Is she always like that?” he queried, looking shell-shocked. “So… vicious?” Lance just laughed, somewhat maliciously. Keith shook his head, looking as if he wanted to shake off the memory of the entire experience. Just then, a harrowed looking, tall, teenager came walking briskly down the aisle, orange headband wrapped around his head. “Where’s Pidge?” he said, looking as if he’d been through a traumatic experience. “Hey Hunk. This is Keith. And Pidge went out to Diablo’s pasture, I think,” Lance replied with a sympathetic smile. “Keith, my bestie Hunk. He shows ranch horse and halter and such.” Hunk waved, smiled warmly, and nodded to them as he walked out to the paddocks, too. “I had to give that demon a ride, so apologies if I seem a bit tense.” Hunk’s fond smile offset the seeming bite of his words regarding Pidge. Keith just nodded as Lance laughed.  
“Alright, well, see ya around, Keith,” Lance said, opting to ignore his mulleted pain-in-the-ass problem for the time being. He had more important things to focus on- namely, Blue. He patted her side, shouldered her bridle, and unlatched her halter so he could put her bridle on.  
He gently slipped the bit in Blue’s mouth, the mare taking it easily. As they strolled out to the arena, he kept humming to her, her ears flicking sharply each time he got louder. His phone was almost dead, so he couldn’t switch on his riding playlist. Singing it was the next best thing. There was always the radio, but it just wasn’t the same. Lance pulled up a mounting block beside blue, put his foot in the stirrup, and swung himself onto her back, He was perfectly capable of getting on from the ground, but he saw no use in straining Blue’s back and his muscles just to look cool.  
They warmed up slowly, Lance walking Blue around, stretching her neck out, practicing collection, and doing some quick stretches himself before they got to the hard part. Just as he went to jog off, he saw a figure standing next to Allura near the gate. What’s the mullet still doing here? Lance grew uneasy. Was Keith going to watch his lesson? That was… strange. He wasn’t sure if he could focus with his arch nemesis standing there, watching him like that.  
“Lance! Collect her up, focus now!” Allura’s sharp reproach snapped him back into the real world. He bumped Blue’s face on the reins, feeling her respond instantly. “Much better!” He could focus, and he would. He’d show Keith Kogane that he, Lance Alejandro McClain, was NOT intimidated by him. Take that!  
For the next forty-five minutes, Lance was centered, working Blue on everything from western pleasure to pivots and lead changes. Finally, both of them sweaty and exhausted, Lance and Blue halted in the middle of the arena. “Nice ride, Lance. Blue looks great! Now that your lead changes are on the right track, are you gonna want to try the western riding at the next show?”  
Lance leaned down and petted Blue, wiping his hand on his jeans immediately afterwards. “Ugh. Sweaty. Me, too, though, so it’s alright, Bluebell. Um… If you feel I’m ready, I’d be pumped to try it, Allura. Just… I don’t want to rush into anything.” Allura laughed. “The only way you’ll get this class down is showing it. I say you go ahead and enter it.” Lance nodded, looking at Keith from the corner of his eyes to gauge his reaction. “She changes well,” commented Keith quietly. Lance looked up, surprised. “Thanks.”  
Keith was looking away now, eyes seemingly vacant. Getting intimidated, asshat? Ready to see who's best now? Lance could read the competitiveness deep in Keith’s dark eyes. We’ll see.  
\---------------------------------------------------  
Oh shit. Keith snapped back to reality abruptly. Was I being spoken to? He looked up, offering a half hearted smile at Lance. “She changes well,” he offered, remembering someone making a comment about western riding. “Thanks,” Keith thought he heard Lance say before his deep ponderings submerged his brain again  
But what if Spottedleaf hadn’t died…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the second chapter. Things should start moving from here on out. Avery and I will be working hard to make sure we get a chapter out every week. Kudos and comments give us motivation to get things done so please leave some. Thanks for reading!  
> -Flash
> 
> Hi! Avery here! Thank you all so much for reading. From here on out, it will be a rollercoaster that only goes up where Klance is involved, my friends! (Sort of. There will be angst, and Langst, but… Another time, loves.) Your comments/kudos/bookmarks are my LITERAL lifeblood, so please please please leave some if you like it- it makes school less crappy when I feel like I have some success where writing is concerned, at least! Leave any suggestions, tips, questions/comments/concerns in the comments for Flash and I, and enjoy the ride!


	3. Time to (sorta) Show 'em how its done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> new vocab  
> Hunt Seat Equitation- a class in which riders ride their horses through a pattern in an English style. 
> 
> Showmanship- a class in which the handler leads their horses through a pattern
> 
> Halter- The handler shows off the horse's conformation and color -whichever horse has the most muscles and prettiest mane,tail, and coat wins
> 
> Western Riding- a class in which riders must complete a pattern involving mostly lead changes 
> 
> Lead- a lead is what leg is stretching out the farthest when a horse is loping or cantering
> 
> Lead change- when a horse changes leads

Mid-July  
“Weeeee, are the chaaaaaaampions, my friiiiieee-”  
“Lance, I swear to God, if you don’t change the song, I will actually stab you,” Keith called from the other side of the trailer. “I’ll help,” Pidge chimed in helpfully, looking about one more verse away from murder. Allura laughed as she confiscated the iPod from Lance, scrolling through it for a moment before switching it to Lindsey Stirling. Lance groaned. “I was pumping us up!”  
“Lance, buddy, I think seven repeats of the same Queen song has us as pumped as we’re gonna get. Anymore and it loses its magic,” Hunk counseled him. Lance looked at him with pathetically droopy eyes. “You’ll let me play my music on the way up, won’t you, Hunk?” The tall teenager regarded Lance fondly for a moment. “I’d do anything for you. Except that. Hell no. We’re listening to the radio.”  
Lance gave up his pouting after a few moments and began actually helping out. The team was loading up the trailer in preparation for their first post-World show. It was fairly low-key, a local show open to horses of all breeds. Their competition mostly consisted of far less experienced riders from the surrounding area. Nevertheless, it was always good to get experience in the show pen, and once Allura hath decreed that they were attending a show, that was that.   
It had been just under three weeks since Ferrari had come to live at Altea Performance and Keith had become a fixture at the barn. He had remained aloof for about the first week, speaking only as much as absolutely necessary, before he finally began to come out of his shell.  
Lance wanted to stuff him back in.  
The mullet was arrogant and rude, and, admittedly, Lance was still a little salty about World. Not to mention the fact that Keith still had a horse that HAD to have cost a positively ungodly amount of money. Somehow, though, the brat had managed to charm everybody else. Shiro and he were best buddies, Allura was constantly complimentary, Pidge and Keith were constantly laughing together about something or another… even Hunk and Coran were friendly with him! Lance and Keith, though… that was another story.  
They never physically fought. (God, Allura would MURDER them!) But when Keith was around, Lance felt this burn. He HAD to prove he was better- prove that although Keith may be the World Champion, Lance was just as good of a rider. So far, it wasn’t seeming like that, though. Instead of sharpening him, Lance’s rivalry with Keith distracted him, made him make novice mistakes and lose focus more than usual. It was infuriating. And it was COMPLETELY Keith’s fault.  
All of that granted, however, Lance was excited for this weekend. Sure, he was stuck with Keith, but he also had the rest of the barn, and he and Blue would get a chance at redemption for all of their failed practices lately. Plus, shows were just fun. He could escape from his crappy job, his overwhelming siblings, the upcoming stress of school, even if only for a weekend. Bonus: he got to hang out with some of his favorite people in the world. So, yeah, it was worth a little mullet-exposure.  
Once his jam had been shut down, Lance was actually a highly productive participant in the trailer-loading process. They finished in about half an hour, after which they all headed to their horse’s stalls to wrap their legs for protection on the potentially rough trailer ride up. Since Blue and Ferrari were at the end of the aisle, Keith and Lance walked through the barn together, side by side.   
They were silent as they readied their horses, using padded boots which velcroed over their horses’ legs. Cries resounded from the opposite end of the barn where Pidge battled with her hellion Diablo, who was a bit high strung when it came to touching his legs. Lance chuckled, hearing Keith do the same from the other side of the wall. His mood brightened. Keith was in a good mood. Maybe this weekend wouldn’t be so bad.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Today was the worst. The literal worst.   
Lance’s pre-show day had started off fine- singing on the way with Hunk, who, despite his earlier words, had let plug in his personal playlist for almost half the drive up, texting Pidge, stopping for some Taco Bell- typical fun horse show stuff.  
They’d arrived at the show grounds, unloaded the trailer (which was a total bore, but went fairly quickly with so many workers), and got their horses all settled in. Lance and Pidge, supervised by Allura, headed to the show office to sign everyone up for their classes while Hunk, Keith, and Shiro finished moving the horses in; filling water buckets, hauling hay, the like. Everything was still going alright- well, even!  
Then they longed.   
Longeing was already somewhat of a drag. It was a necessity at every show- something about being worked in repetitive circles on the end of a long line calmed the horses down and got them used to their new environment. Lance knew for sure he felt a lot more confident hopping up on Blue in a new place after she’d longed for a while than before she’d been out at all. However, longeing was also really easy to make a fool out of yourself doing, seeing as you had yards of nylon rope at your disposal to trip over and a horse galloping around you to make it extra challenging.  
It figured, really, that Keith would look over just as Lance pulled his phone out to turn on his music. It figured his music would be really, really loud, spooking poor Blue into bolting. It figured that Lance would lose his already unstable grasp on the rope, leaving Blue free to careen around the pen. It figured Lance would make a fool of himself in front of everyone.  
God, I’m an idiot sometimes. A lot of the time. Lance inwardly berated himself as he chased his mare around the arena, hearing the cry of “Loose horse! Loose horse!” being taken up throughout the facility. The others in the arena working their horses had stopped to make it easier for Lance to catch Blue. Naturally, the horse walked over to Ferrari, sniffing him curiously. He sniffed her back, ignoring Keith’s warning tugs on the longe line. “Blue. Blue. Blue! Come here!” She pricked her ears at Lance’s cries, but never moved away from the gelding.  
“Your horse is a bad influence!” Lance accused Keith, embarrassment making him defensive. Keith raised an eyebrow. “Mine isn’t the one loose in the arena. Besides, Blue wouldn’t be an issue if you knew how to longe a horse.” Lance fumed at the condescending tone of the other boy’s voice. “You’re such an ass,” he muttered, careful to keep anyone else from hearing (namely, Allura and Pidge, who would scold him). “Yeah, well,” Keith whispered back. “At least I can keep control of my horse.”  
That was the beginning of Lance’s torture. Later that night when they got on to practice patterns, he got his second dose. Allura was vicious on them, demanding their best physically and mentally. Still peeved, Lance was definitely not on par in either category. Blue was edgy, looking all around, spooking from slight distractions, seeming to forget everything she knew. Lance hardly even noticed Allura’s directives, he was so caught up inside his own head.   
He’s right. How can I expect to beat him when I can’t even do one little thing right? I’m an idiot. Stupid, stupid…   
He headed back to the stalls after one halfway decent pattern, Allura telling him to call it quits, bathe his horse, and get to sleep. He and Hunk were sharing a room at a nearby hotel, the same hotel Pidge, her brother Matt, and Shiro were staying. Since Hunk had only brought Buttercup, his two year old halter mare, he had already checked in and unloaded their luggage, and was just waiting for Lance to head back and hit the hay. Poor guy. He was conked out in a semi-reclining lawn chair, looking dead to the world. Lance unsaddled Blue as quickly and quietly as he could and headed to the wash rack.  
He made sure he was thorough, leaving all of Blue’s steely coat shiny and stain free. She was a good girl in that she typically stayed fairly clean, making his morning much easier. Pidge’s monster, Diablo, was the master of finding ways to (seemingly permanently) dye himself muddy brown or hideous shades of green. He was constantly rolling, sticking his nose into strange places- and the horse was almost solid white. Poor Pidge had to be at the barn by 5 AM on pretty much every show day.  
Scrubbing off miniscule stains and discolored fur was soothing. Lance’s thoughts soon quieted, and before long he was all done. He walked Blue back down the aisle, released her in her stall, and gave her a quick hug before heading over to awaken Hunk. He was still laid out in the chair, mouth slightly open and hair falling loose from his headband over his eyes. “Hunk,” Lance called softly before reaching down to shake his shoulder. “Huuuunk. Wakey-wakey…”  
After a moment, the sleepy cinnamon roll sat up, yawning and rubbing at his eyes. “You ready to go back?” he asked Lance, sleep slurring his words. “Yep. All done up here. I’ll drive back, you seem pretty whooped,” Lance offered. “A’right,” Hunk agreed easily, nodding his eyes, barely keeping his eyes open. Lance slung an arm over Hunk’s shoulder, partially to offer his exhausted friend support and partly for the way it boosted his mood. Hunk was the best- even when he was half asleep and drooling on his feet. He made up for all of the rest of Lance’s shitty day with his hugs and- were those tacos in the backseat?!?  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Five forty-five the next morning found Lance and Hunk pulling up outside the show facility, hauling all of their show clothes, Lance’s makeup essentials, and a box of breakfast tacos Hunk had made before they left. Lance was incredibly proud of their willpower- over half of the original amount of the scrumptious food remained in the box. They were getting better at this whole sharing thing!  
They were greeted by cheers at their stalls. “Praise all that is holy, you two are no longer dead to me,” Pidge announced as they arrived. She looked like an alley cat who’d been on the losing end of a fight- hair ruffled wildly, glasses askew, dark bags circling her eyes. “Damn- I mean, darn, Pidge, you’re too young to look so much like a college student,” Lance replied, flinching away from Allura’s glare. “Why was I dead to you?” Hunk questioned her simultaneously, looking indignant. Pidge simply shrugged and unwrapped a taco from its aluminum foil shell, shoving nearly the entire thing into her mouth and gulping it down.   
“Morning,” chorused Allura and Shiro as they too dug in. “These are delicious. Thanks, Hunk,” Allura commented. Hunk beamed. “Of course! I love cooking for my show team!” Keith hovered uneasily beside the table where Lance had deposited the tacos. While Lance may have borne Keith a slight grudge, he wasn’t anywhere near cruel enough to begrudge him Hunk’s tacos over it. “You gonna have any, Keith?” he asked. Keith looked startled. “I-uh- thanks!” he said in a breathless rush, darting over to grab a taco, then returning to standing awkwardly to eat it. Lance nudged Pidge, who rolled her eyes, got off of the chair she was occupying, and moved to Lance’s lap. “You can sit down, Keith. No need to be so tense,” Lance told him after Pidge had moved.  
“You sure as hell better take that seat- I have to sit on this jerk’s friggin’ bony knee now…” Pidge said, somewhat whiningly. Keith sat down quickly. Lance couldn’t blame him. The younger girl was quite terrifying when she wanted to be- and she usually wanted to be. They ate in peace for a while, everyone laughing at Pidge and Lance’s exchanges of memes, awful puns, and roasts. After a bit, Hunk stood up, stretching and checking the time on his phone. “I guess it’s time for me to get Buttercup out and ready.” Allura sat up. “What time is it, Hunk?”  
“6:20,” he replied, walking over to his palomino filly’s stall and unlatching it. Allura shot out of her seat. “Pidge!” she exclaimed.”Time to get back on! Diablo’s not tired yet, so neither are you. Lance, make sure you take your meds. I don’t need you getting distracted. Hunk- well, everybody. Make sure your horses are clean, fix their bands… be productive, people!” With that, she flitted off, Shiro watching her with a fond smile. Does he know how smitten he is? Lance wondered. “How much coffee has she had?” he asked out loud. “At least four cups. I don’t think she slept at all last night. I should…” Shiro trailed off, looking concerned. “I should keep an eye on her.”  
Lance laughed. Allura was typically a mature, responsible adult, but horse shows were crazy for everyone. She often didn’t sleep for the entire weekend and maintained her energy solely through unhealthy caffeine and sugar consumption. He enjoyed relaxing in his seat for another moment, then rose stiffly. He made his way over to the tack stall where all of their gear was stored, pulling a small box from the large tub labeled “THE TAILOR (Lance)!!” Keith looked over, nosey as always, as Lance grabbed a medicine container and dumped a pill out from it and chunked it in his mouth, swallowing it somewhat painfully with a swig of water.  
“What…” Keith looked torn as to whether he could ask it. Lance gave him a smile to show it was alright. “It’s Stratera-my ADHD meds. I have to take them before I show and ride and stuff to help me focus and remember things.” Keith furrowed his brow slightly. “This is the good stuff. Lasts all day,” Lance said with a wink. Keith rolled his eyes, his former inscrutable expression gone. Back to irritation. Well, at least Lance could rely on that.  
Outside the tack stall, Allura and Shiro always set up a large white table. It was typically used as a dumping ground for every miscellaneous item they might need- food, fly spray, pattern books, bottles of water, phone chargers, and the occasional printed out meme from Pidge or Lance. Lance grabbed a pattern book from it and returned to his seat, looking over the patterns for the day. He felt ready for his showmanship, which was the first real class up. They had halter before that, but since it was judged on the horse, that class was definitely not their focus. He looked over his pattern in silence, starting a bit when he heard Keith.  
“Hey. Hey.” Lance looked up. “Yeah?” Keith looked a bit sheepish. “Can I recite my patterns to you and you make sure I have them right?” Lance was taken off guard. “Uhh.. sure. Showmanship first?” Keith nodded. They went through all of their patterns, Keith seeming to grow more confident as they went on and Lance didn’t mock him for his mess-ups. Really, it was a good exercise for them both- Lance felt like hearing his patterns has really helped him. By the time they were done, it was almost 6:45. Lance stood up abruptly.  
“We should get our horses cleaned up,” he told Keith. Keith nodded and they went their separate ways, currying and slicking off their horses, redoing the bands the mischievous show ponies had rubbed into disarray. Blue revelled in the attention, shaking her head and blowing air through her nose at Lance. “Yeah, yeah,” he said after one particularly strong snort had gotten mucus all over his tank top. “You have to work before I feed you anything, you dork,” he told her as she nibbled at his hair. Lance heard Keith snicker from a stall over. “Fight me,” he called.  
The rest of the morning went by easily, Lance finishing with Blue, then going back to the tack stall to get himself ready. He prided himself on having the best makeup of anyone in the pen, but perfect cat eyes did not happen instantaneously. When he’d finished his makeup, he slicked his hair back, pinning it in place with a few bobby pins so it would be neat and tidy beneath his hat. Pidge had finally succeeded in getting her nutjob of a horse to behave, so she and Allura were rushing frantically to get the pair ready to show. Hunk was putting the finishing touches on Buttercup, trying to polish her hooves as she snorted and attempted to pick him up by the collar of his shirt. Shiro was laughing at her antics as he helped Hunk clean the dirt she’d already managed to get on her shining coat.   
Lance carefully placed his white hat on his head, observing himself in the mirror. Perfect. His outfit was a shade of cerulean, silver jewels scattered over it and concentrated on his cuffs and color. The cut flattered his figure, and his pants accentuated his long legs. Every bit of it was clean, down to his polished boots which matched the outfit perfectly. The hat, immaculately shaped and religiously cleaned, topped it off. He grinned. Then he looked across the stall, and his grin dropped.  
Keith wore a suit as most show guys opted to do- Lance was more confident than most in his masculinity. His crimson tie was sharp and professional. The image was only ruined by-  
“Keith, you can’t show with your hair like that.”  
“It worked for me at World Show.” Ouch. “Don’t be a dick, Keith. I’m serious. Your damn mullet looks hideous under that hat. We need- Allura!” Lance raised his voice at the end. “Yes?!” she called back. “We need hair help. ASAP. I’ll do Pidge’s makeup.” Cheers echoed from down the aisle- it was common knowledge that Lance did the best makeup, topping even Allura.   
Allura popped in the stall. “What’s the- oh. Keith. Good Lord.” Shiro appeared behind her. He let out a small gasp. Pidge was soon behind him, eager to mock someone. “Keith, baby, it’s okay. You don’t have to live like this anymore.We’re here for you,” she said seriously, looking him in the eyes and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. He looked annoyed, confused, and a little terrified. “Run, Keith!” Hunk called. Now he was a LOT terrified. “Wh-what are you going to do…”  
Allura pushed him into a chair, removing his hat, setting it carefully aside, and brandishing a can of hairspray by his face. Lance giggled and gestured to Pidge to sit down outside the stall, crouching in front of her chair with his makeup bag. They laughed together somewhat evilly at the pained noises coming from Keith. “Ow!” he screamed at one point. “Gotcha with a bobby pin, did she?” Lance asked through the stall. “Y-Jesus! Sorry, sorry… Ow!”   
Lance finished up with Pidge’s makeup, touching up a corner of her eye with black liner. “All done,” he told her, and she waved her hand as if she was a princess dismissing her servant. He rolled his eyes, got to his feet, brushing off his knees, and went inside the tack stall. “Need any help?” he asked Allura as she sprayed Keith’s hair some more. She looked up, her eyes wide and slightly crazed. “Please. Lance, work your magic.”  
“Hunk!” he yelled before he got started. “When you’re done, can you come over here? We need help with Keith’s mullet!” A clatter of hooves ensued, then Hunk appeared in the doorway. “Ready to battle the mullet, sir,” he said, saluting. “It’s not a mullet,” Keith muttered angrily. “Just accept it, Keith,” Shiro told him. Keith sputtered. “Does everyone have to watch me get my hair done? What are we, old women at a beauty parlor?” Pidge laughed as the others winced.  
“Old?! OLD?! Excuse you, sir! Just because you never get any sun- don’t deny it, ya friggin’ vampire- and don’t have any wrinkles doesn’t mean my tan face is automatically aged! I will have you know my skin care routine is IMPECCABLE! I don’t need this crap from you!” At the end of each sentence, Lance somewhat viciously stabbed a bobby pin into Keith’s scalp. He held his hand out and Hunk quickly placed a can of hairspray in it. A few puffs later and Lance discarded the can, holding his hand out again. This time a can of mousse was supplied. Lance squeezed some out, rubbed it between his hands, and slicked back Keith’s bangs.   
Before too long, Lance beckoned Pidge with a finger. He offered her a single pin, which she took without hesitation. Lance swiveled so he was sitting directly in front of Keith, squinted his eyes in scrutiny, then pointed at an extremely specific spot just above Keith’s left ear. “Do it, Pidge. The final pin. The killing stroke to the mullet monster. Do it, Pidge! You can do it!” With the exception of Keith, they all cheered as Pidge inserted the pin. Keith hissed in anger and pain. “Thanks, Lance. Keith, you look much better! Very sharp!” Allura complimented. Keith tilted his head, scrutinizing his reflection. “Thanks…” he mumbled after a moment.  
His bangs were pulled back atop his head, all of his hair tucked behind his ears. The back portion of his hair- his “mullet”- was pulled into a tight, tiny ponytail, not a single strand escaping. Shiro handed Allura the black hat Keith had been wearing, which she carefully arranged atop his newly styled hair. “Marvellous!” she exclaimed. Lance snickered at him. “You look very nice. Quite respectable! Now…” A terrifying gleam entered his eyes. Suddenly, Lance was incredibly close to Keith’s face and brandishing an eyeliner pen. Keith backpedaled as quickly as he could, fleeing the pen.   
Lance frowned. “No? Too ‘manly’ for makeup?” Keith shuddered. “More like… bad memories. I had a... emo phase…” Lance laughed. “Had?”   
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Keith looked at him fiercely. Pidge, walking by, laughed. “You still look like you have posters of Gerard Way hanging on the inside of your closet, emo mullet boy.” Keith furrowed his eyebrows. Pidge’s jaw dropped. “Oh my God. Oh my God. You do!” Keith mumbled something inaudibly. “What was that, Killjoy?” Lance teased him. “It’s alright, Keith,” Shiro consoled him. “We all mourn the loss of emo’s greatest still. People, do we need to have a group hug session? I know we’re all still recoveri-”   
“Hell NO,” Pidge told him. “We are all fine, no hugs are necessary, dear Lord.” Lance wiggled his fingers at her, arms extended as if to hug her.  
“Class 1, please check in. Class 1, Junior Mares 5 and Under, please check in. Senior Mares 6 and Over and Junior Geldings, please be getting ready,” the loudspeaker suddenly boomed. As the PA system droned, Hunk pulled Buttercup out from her stall. The group’s efforts had finally gotten her clean, and she looked stunning. Hunk, too, cut quite a figure in his yellow suit, complete with a matching hat. Lance shot him finger guns. “Go rock ‘em, Hunk!” Buttercup snorted, bobbing her head and nudging Lance harshly with her nose. “Well you, too, obviously Buttercup.”   
“Lance, get Blue out, too. You’re the class after Hunk,” Allura told him. Shiro stood beside her, holding a black tote filled with brushes, fly spray, and other emergency show supplies. “Let’s go! See you up there, guys!” She skipped off, Shiro trailing her. He turned before he followed after her, smiling at them. “You ready, guys?”   
“BORN READY!” They chorused, even Keith joining in, smiling. Lance pulled Blue’s silver encrusted leather show halter from its protective bag, heading over to her stall to put it on. Hunk was already walking off after Allura and Shiro, and Pidge and Keith were readying their horses and making sure their outfits and halters were clean. Lance made sure the halter was snug on Blue’s face, everything even and professional-looking. He smiled at her. “Ready, Blue?!” She stared back at him. “Alright. Good enough. Let’s go, girl!”  
They walked out of the stall together, heading over to the holding pen just in front of the arena. Lance grinned at Hunk, who was getting ready to walk into the pen, Buttercup trotting circles around him, prancing. “Have fun!” he called. Hunk gave him a thumbs up.  
Lance checked in with the ring steward. “What’s your number?” she asked. He froze, craning his neck over his shoulder in a vain attempt to see the number pinned to his back. The steward laughed, then leaned over and checked for him. “131,” she told him. “Good luck!”  
He thanked her and kept walking, keeping an eye on Hunk in the pen. Buttercup was in her show mode now, ears pricked and legs square, a perfect angel now that she was being judged. Lance snorted, petting Blue. They walked laps around the small warm-up pen, not doing much of anything, since halter was not a class one truly prepared for. Before too long, the announcer came over the loudspeaker, informing the exhibitors that the judge’s cards were in and they would have placings momentarily.  
“Keep in mind as these placings are announced, first and second must stay nearby for Grand and Reserve class. With that, congratulations to first place, number 129 - Hunk Garret and Golden Promise.” Polite clapping ensued from the stands, Lance audible over it all with his enthusiastic whooping. Buttercup was a top notch halter horse- the kind Hunk had dreamed of owning since he was younger than Pidge was now. This was his first show with her, though- he’d only just gotten her at this year’s World Show. A grin split Hunk’s face now; the show may have been small, but he was still proud of his new mare. Buttercup tossed her head as they pranced out of the pen, suddenly back to her rambunctious two year old self.   
Lance snapped his attention back to his class when he heard the ring steward somewhat impatiently calling, “131? 131?!” He walked Blue into the pen crisply, their legs moving in unison, holding his chin high and maintaining a dazzling smile. It may have been a fairly inconsequential class for them, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t turn the charm on. It was show time.   
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The day was only halfway done, but Lance was already exhausted. They’d already made their way through the first four classes- halter, showmanship, hunter under saddle, and equitation. It wasn’t so much his placings that had Lance so drained- he’d ended up placing second in his showmanship class and first in the hunter under, although his equitation pattern had been disappointing. Allura had given him an evil death glare as he walked out of the pen, and even supportive Shiro had nothing to say to Lance and Blue’s frankly mediocre performance. That’s fine. I deserve it. I’ve been slacking, and they know it- there’s no excuse.  
Hunk had ended up winning grand champion halter mare, which had him over the moon, and Lance was glad for him. Truly! Pidge had suffered a few setbacks in almost all of her classes so far, but she won her equitation class for riders 13 and under with a beautiful run. Keith, though…   
Damn that rich, snobby, stuck up mullet with the too fancy horse! Since they were both 17, Lance and Keith were showing in the same division- competing against that fancy-schmancy horse and his jackass of a rider in every. Single. Class. And, so far, Lance was NOT winning. In the showmanship, Keith and Ferrari had won easily, blowing everyone else in the pen (Lance included) out of the water. The pair had skipped the hunter under saddle class due to Ferrari’s inexperience, then come back into the equitation class to absolutely destroy it in the best possible way.  
Should Lance be happy for his teammates- even the mullet snob? Yes. Was he going to be? NO. Why ever not? Because Lance McClain was petty to the max, and would never be convinced that Keith Kogane deserved to win over him simply because he had more money and could buy a nice horse.   
Blue was wonderful, but it was hard to compete with Ferrari, who probably could have brought over $100,000 on the market, even as young as he was. Lance muttered to Blue, venting, as he saddled her up for the western classes back at Altea Performance Horses’ stalls. “And I think he’s judging my style, too… That bastard-”  
“Lance,” a voice called out quietly from the aisleway. “You should probably get on. Our next class is coming up. And…” Keith trailed off as Lance turned to look at him, trying and apparently failing to appear civil and as if he had not just been trash talking to his horse. “Your eyeliner…” Keith finally said. Lance bristled. “What about it?! Do you have a-” Keith rolled his eyes and began to lead Ferrari away. “It’s smeared, you idiot. Fix it,” he said firmly as he walked away. Lance gaped at Keith’s retreating back, absentmindedly wiping a finger lightly around his eye to clear up the supposed smudge of makeup.   
“Class 43,” the announcer began, and Lance was startled out of his thoughts. “Oh, shit! Let’s GO, Blue!”  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“No pressure, guys, but it’s the last class of the day. The sooner you two go, the sooner we can get food!” Hunk told Lance and Blue as they stood waiting at the entry gate. “Yeah, so… Try not to screw up terribly,” Pidge told Lance. He stuck his tongue out at her- “Mature,” commented Keith- and took a few deep breaths to steady himself. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked Allura again. “Positive. Now come on. Get in there, get the practice in, and let’s go. You can do it,” she told him. Lance knew she didn’t mean to be as terse as she was- the poor woman had to be dead on her feet- but her dismissiveness stung nonetheless. Shiro flashed him a dazzling grin as the gate workers called Lance’s number to enter, which helped a bit, but-  
Had his pulse always been so violent? Lance heard it like pounding thunder rushing through his ears, almost painfully throbbing in his veins. He barely comprehended the judge’s nod, the signal to begin his pattern, too busy focusing on not passing out. Though it wasn’t usually obvious, Lance struggled with nerves a lot. This- his first time showing this class, everyone in his barn including Keith friggin’ Kogane watching him… This anxiety was quite possibly worse than World Show nerves. Blue jogged off seemingly before Lance’s cue, much more calm and prepared than her rider. Her confidence steadied Lance a bit.  
They began the intricate, winding course, weaving cones and being sure to maintain lines as straight as possible. After what seemed like decades, they came to the first lead change of many- arguably the most difficult part of this class. Lance took a deep breath, then…  
\---------------------------------------------------  
“I remember nothing. Literally nothing. Oh. My. God. What did I just do? I don't know. Guys. I'm shaking. Guys!” Lance’s breathing was rapid and shallow. Allura greeted him at the exit gate of the arena with an amused smile. “That was good, Lance! That was really, really good! Were you a little nervous?”  
“I would have been less nervous about being castrated without anesthesia. That was terrifying. I blacked out. I swear. I have no clue what just happened. I-” Pidge interrupted Lance’s babbling with a sharp punch to the leg. “Oh, get over yourself. You guys did amazing.” He relaxed a fraction. “Oh. Thanks. Thanks, guys.”  
Hunk wrapped Lance in a hug, the smaller teen leaning down from atop Blue to accept his hug. “Thanks, bro,” Lance muttered. When Hunk moved away, Lance blinked at the sight of Keith, his arms wrapped around Blue’s head, whispering something in her ear. He stopped speaking when he saw Lance looking at him, instead sheepishly avoiding his gaze.   
“I, uh… good job. That was… good,” he mumbled. “Thanks,” Lance said quietly, for once not getting a snarky vibe. “Seriously. Y'all were amazing,” Keith told him, still not meeting his eyes. Then he cleared his throat, patted Blue twice on the neck, and strode away quickly.  
Shiro watched him go, then turned to Lance. “Take what you can get, I guess. I'm glad you two have made a temporary truce. And congrats. Very nice run.” Lance smiled at him. “Thanks.”  
Before long, the announcer called Lance’s class back into the pen for awards. As they filed back in, Lance leaned down, almost laying on Blue’s neck. “Thanks, Blue-baby,” he whispered to her. “Thanks for taking care of me. No matter how we place, lots of treats for you tonight.” She shook her mane slightly, seeming to be in full agreeance with the treat plan.  
“In the 14-18 Youth Western Riding class, first place is number 131, Lance McClain and Iron On Magic!” The stands erupted in cheers where the people of Altea Performance Horses had converged. “Holy crap,” Lance whispered. Sure, it was a small show. And yeah, Blue was amazing. THAT was to be expected. But HIM, Lance McClain- winning? Insane.   
Although, what did you really do? You can't even remember it! Lance did his best to ignore the thought and smile. “We won, baby!” he told Blue, who seemed pretty apathetic about it all. Then again, she'd already been promised treats, so a blue ribbon didn't really mean much to her.   
It was still a nice accomplishment. Lance tried to hold that image in his mind: the blue ribbon against Blue’s grey coat, Team Altea’s smiles and cheers- even Keith’s stammered compliments.  
Somehow, though, the image of Allura’s disappointed scowl from earlier seemed etched on top of it.  
\---------------------------------------------------  
“TIME FOR THE FOOD OF MY PEOPLE!” Lance cried, vaulting over a small statue near the entrance to the restaurant. “Lance, you are from Cuba, not Mexico,” Hunk explained patient tly. “We all speak Spanish,” Lance dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Besides, other than mi familia, there is NO decent Cuban food within a hundred miles. This is as close as it gets, buddy.”  
“Fair enough,” shrugged Pidge, slipping past him into the restaurant. “Hey!” Lance cried, racing after her, leaving Keith and Allura rolling their eyes while Hunk laughed and Shiro looked on, amused.   
When they had all settled into their chairs and ordered drinks “She’s 11. Believe nothing she says and give her no alcohol,” Allura told the waiter as Pidge opened her mouth), Hunk rubbed his hands together enthusiastically. “Alright,” he said with an air of excitement.  
Everyone looked at him expectantly. He pulled out his phone, unlocked it, opened an app, and passed the phone to Pidge. “Oh, no,” she whispered, looking at it. “We’ll get kicked out.” Lance whooped. “Let’s do it, then!” Pidge shook her head. “Alright, then….”  
“Why would we be kicked out for playing… what is that?” Keith asked. Pidge grinned at him wickedly. “Prepare for initiation, Keith. This is Heads Up.” The veterans at the table quickly gave him a run down of the rule. “So, it's like charades?” he asked.  
“It's better than charades, Keith,” Lance replied with a smirk. “It's HEADS UP!” With that, Pidge tilted the phone, and chaos ensued.   
\---------------------------------------------------  
Over an hour later, they sat, plates of food devoured, bill paid, still engrossed in the game. “Okay, ummm, sport, Serena Williams plays it-” Hunk’s explanations were cut off by an enthusiastic and confident Shiro. “GOLF!” he yelled across the table. Everyone was silent for a moment. Then Pidge cackled, sending everyone else into fits of laughter. “What?!” asked Shiro. Allura patted him on the head without moving her head, nearly doubled over laughing in her seat. “Tennis,” she finally choked out. “The sport is tennis.”  
“My turn!” yelled Lance, grabbing the phone. He placed it on his forehead and began the game again. “Ooh, okay, so hot guy…” Allura began. “ORLANDO BLOOM!” screeched Lance. “NOT EVERY HOT GUY IS ORLANDO BLOOM!” Pidge screamed back. “STOP SHOUTING!” Hunk yelled. No one at the table noticed the rest of the restaurant grow quiet to listen in. “WHO THE HECK IS ORLANDO BLOOM!” Keith screamed. Into absolute silence.   
Keith turned bright red as Lance whirled to face him. “You don't know who Orlando Bloom is?!” he whisper-shouted. Keith shook his head silently. Lance gaped at him for a moment, then stood up and walked out of the restaurant, Pidge still giggling uncontrollably.  
After about five minutes of near silence, beside Pidge’s slightly disconcerting laughter, which showed no signs of stopping, Shiro cleared his throat. “I guess that's our cue to go.”  
They picked up their stuff and headed out the doors. As they exited, Keith in the lead, they were ambushed by Lance, brandishing a rolled up poster. He leaped out from behind a statue, swatting Keith on the head with the paper from behind. “OHMYGODWHATTHEHELL- Lance!” Keith screeched. Pidge, who had just been regaining her composure, lost it all over again.   
“THIS,” Lance began loudly, unrolling the poster, “IS ORLANDO BLOOM!” The huge poster showed Orlando Bloom shirtless on a beach somewhere. “Why the hell do you just- have that?!” Keith asked, voice still rather high pitched. “FOR INSTANCES SUCH AS THESE!” Lance shouted. “TO EDUCATE THE UNEDUCATED. TO BRING LIGHT TO THOSE IN DARKNESS. TO-” Lance’s voice broke off as Hunk smothered him in a hug, saving a bewildered, wide-eyed Keith. Allura looked at Pidge, lying on the pavement laughing, at Keith, paler than usual with huge pupils, at Shiro, who'd laughed so hard his eyeliner had run, and at Hunk, holding a struggling Lance. “Let's get home, y'all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, everyone! I am so, so sorry for all of the delays. Between World Show, State 4H, a vacation, and other shows… it's been crazy. I hope this waaaay longer than intended chapter somewhat makes up for it, and I am honestly trying to return to schedule now. Challenge for this chapter: see if you can spot the Be More Chill reference! Again, thank you for reading, and endless apologies for falling behind on this fic!  
> \- Avery
> 
> hey guys! It should be smooth sailing from here on out. breaks from school are a little crazy because that's the most convenient time to go to shows. on the bright side AVERY OVER HERE WON A WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP AGHHHHHH IM SO PROUD OF HER!!! they grow up so fast *Tears*. and I won a Reserve World Championship! so im kinda in the same position as Lance lol. watch out Avery me and Felix are right behind youuuu!! So yeah. one more note about Lance's ADHD. I have adhd and so I'm going to be projecting a lot lol (sry not sry). and many people have different experiences with it so if you think we got something wrong its probably just our experiences are different. Thanks for staying with this fic guys! Comments make us very happy so please comment any questions about our fic or our sport or anything really. even like a smiley face will literally make our day!  
> \- Flash  
> -Flash


	4. A (surprisingly) Perfect Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> helloo!! No vocab for this chapter- it's a fun, laid back, fluffy one. Yay! Keep an eye out and lemme know if you spot the Hamilton reference! Okay, I'll be quiet now. Enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Late July

The gravel of the driveway crunched beneath the wheels of Lance’s car as he pulled up to the barn. He snatched his lunch out of the backseat, then stepped out of the car, slammed the door behind him, and headed up to the barn, whistling jauntily.  
“Happy birthday!” Allura called to him from the arena. “I'll only be a minute, then we can get started.” Lance grinned at her. “Thanks! Okay!” he shouted back. As he entered the barn, Lance was suddenly enveloped in hugs. Hunk, Pidge, and Shiro all piled into the group hug, as well as-  
“MATT!” Lance cried. “The one and only,” Pidge’s older brother said with a wink, shooting him finger guns. “Great to see you, man,” Lance told him, now struggling to escape from the hug. “Same to you, bro. And happy birthday,” Matt replied, not budging an inch.  
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” everyone else echoed, leaving Lance wincing at the decibel level. “Thanks, guys.” As they finally released Lance from the hug, he caught sight of Keith standing awkwardly a few feet away. “Happy birthday,” he said in a monotone voice. Lance arched an eyebrow. “Thanks.”  
Hunk more than made up for Keith’s lack of enthusiasm, though. “Look, we got Blue all brushed for you! Oh! And we got her a new halter, monogrammed and everything! Gift 1 from Altea!” he announced. “OMG Guys!!!” Lance said, grinning widely now. “This is AMAZING! Thank you!”  
“Now hurry up and saddle. Everybody else is ready,” Pidge told him, smacking him on the shoulder. Lance rubbed his shoulder as nonchalantly as he could. The kid packed a serious punch. Matt laughed at him as he passed by nevertheless. “I taught her well,” he muttered.  
“Hey, girl,” Lance greeted Blue. “How's it goin’, beautiful?” She bumped him in the chest with her nose. “I know, I know. Let's get going.” He saddled her quickly, grabbing a much lighter bit than her usual. This was a special kind of ride.  
“Lance,” a deep voice boomed as a hand landed on his shoulder. “Lance, m’boy! Happy birthday!” Lance spun around. “Thanks, Coran! Are you riding with us today?!” Coran gestured to the fully saddled grey horse he held. “Yes sir! Mack and I’ll be right behind ya!” Then he spun around and faced everyone else.  
“ALRIGHT,” he yelled, leading Mack out of the barn. “Y’ALL COULD’VE BEEN ANYWHERE IN THE WORLD TODAY, BUT YOU’RE HERE WITH ME AT ALTEA PERFORMANCE HORSES. ARE Y’ALL READY FOR A TRAIL RIDE?!” he asked loudly. Everyone cheered. “Let's do this!”  
With that, they set off, everyone leading their horses into the driveway and mounting up. Pidge led Diablo over by Matt, who was pretending to be completely focused on checking his girth. Pidge rolled her eyes. “Matt. C’mon,” she said tersely. He turned, eyes dramatically wide. “What?” he asked with fake innocence.  
Pidge huffed. “You KNOW. Now will you please just give me a leg up?” Matt grinned wickedly, and suddenly the familial resemblance was uncanny. “Ohhhhhh, thaaaaaat. I'd forgotten you need help up, with your short little legs. You should've said something soo- YOUCH!” he broke off as Pidge socked him in the gut. “Sheesh. I taught you a little too well.” She smiled at him, mirroring his faux innocence from earlier.  
After hoisting Pidge onto a snorting Diablo, Matt checked the girth on his horse, Felix, one more time. Patting his shoulder, he swung atop the beautiful dark chestnut, who flicked his tail but otherwise stood still. Farther to the left, Keith hopped aboard Ferrari, annoyingly graceful. Beside him, Hunk was getting adjusted on Molly, his ranch horse. She was a lazy, somewhat rotund mare with a golden coat splashed with white on both sides.  
From the arena, Allura rode over on Jaz, a tall, black three year old mare. “You getting on?” she asked Shiro playfully as he stood beside his ride, Cooper, stroking his muzzle. He chuckled. “Yep,” he said, stepping over and onto Cooper in a fluid motion. Lance caught Coran’s eye, and together they rolled their eyes at the pair’s flirting. “Move out!” Allura called as soon as Shiro had mounted up, and so they set off.  
As the horses settled into their places in the herd, Allura and Shiro ended up in the front, with Matt and Coran just behind them. Hunk and Molly fell in line behind them, followed shortly by Pidge, who was tailed by Lance and Keith. Lance sighed a little inwardly. Of course Blue and Ferrari would both be the most sluggish walkers in the group. Still, Lance was determined to have a good time. It was his birthday, it was late July and not blisteringly hot, and he was out on a trail ride with his friends. Surely not even Keith would try to ruin his day.  
As they walked along, neither spoke, but it wasn't a terribly uncomfortable silence. They were simply enjoying the day and the ride. Up ahead, they could hear Allura and Shiro’s laughter at Matt’s snarky remarks and Pidge and Hunk’s easy banter. Finally Keith cleared his throat. “You don't have to stay back here. I know you'd rather hang out with Pidge and Hunk.”  
Lance stared at him, somewhat stunned. “What? No! I mean… no! It's fine. We're… we don't hate each other, right?” he managed. Keith shrugged. “I kinda thought you did.” Lance tried desperately not to feel guilty. He's the jerk! “No. Sorry. I… no. I don't hate you.” Keith looked over at him, expression unreadable. “Oh. Okay.”  
Up ahead, the group reached a flat, grassy field. Lance stole a glance at Keith, who was gazing out across the pasture. He steered Blue near Ferrari, quickly snatching Keith’s lunch from where it was strapped to his saddle, then dug his heels into Blue (albeit gently). “GO, GIRL!”  
“Hey!” Keith screeched. “What- why- where are you going with that?! Come back!” Lance giggled mischievously. “Catch me!” he called back over his shoulder. “You ASSHOLE,” Keith yelled at him, kicking Ferrari into a canter. “I thought you didn't hate me!”  
“I don't!” Lance shouted back. “YOU JERK! WE HAD A BONDING MOMENT!” Keith bellowed. “NOPE,” Lance replied. “DON’T REMEMBER IT. DIDN’T HAPPEN.” By now, Keith and Ferrari were drawing closer. Lance laughed, then moved his hand forward on Blue’s neck. She shot forward, kicking it up into her speed event gear and leaving Keith to pull Ferrari up, amazed, by Hunk and Pidge.  
“Don't ever race them,” Hunk advised him. “Either of them. They're faster than you'd guess.” Keith shook his head in amazement, petting a slightly winded Ferrari as he watched Lance and Blue tear across the field back towards them. “No joke.” A short distance away, Coran shook his head. “The young ones…” he muttered, pushing Mack into a trot and moving ahead.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
“Not bad for one arm, eh?” Shiro asked Allura jokingly as they pulled their mounts to a stop. She tossed her long platinum hair from her face. “I don't see how that affects anything at all,” she said with a smile. “Cooper’s the one doing the running.”  
“YOU KIDS GET BACK HERE!” Matt’s voice filtered into their conversation, muffled by distance. They glanced at each other, automatically feeling guilty for a moment, then bursting into laughter. “He's ridiculous,” Shiro said fondly. Allura shrugged. “Someone had to train Pidge.”  
They watched Felix lope up towards them, looking like he was ready to win a western pleasure class, but definitely getting nowhere fast. Shiro grinned to himself. Coran, trotting up on Mack, wasn't having much more luck. In the distance, Lance and Blue galloped around the other youth, spooking Diablo, who began cantering, too.  
“I'm glad to see they’re getting along. Well, except for Diablo.” Allura pulled Jaz up next to Cooper. Shiro looked over at her for longer than was perhaps acceptable. Catching himself, he looked down at Cooper’s mane. “So, uh, how's she coming along?” he asked without looking up.  
“You decide,” Allura said. Shiro looked up, puzzled. Allura pushed Jaz into a jog, circling around Shiro and Cooper. After a while, she kissed to her to lope off. “Looking good. She must be smooth,” he remarked. “Oh?” Allura asked, returning to the jog. “Your, uh… your body is very still.” Allura smiled and… blushed? It was hard to tell, but it was probably just the sun. “Thanks.”  
As Shiro jogged off alongside her, she looked him up and down. “Not so bad yourself,” she told him in a neutral tone. “Your leg looks good.” He felt his face heat up. “Thanks, I've been working out, you know,” he replied jokingly, feeling his face flame up even more when she simply nodded in response. “Anyways…” he said quietly, feeling extremely awkward.  
“Do you think Lance and Keith have killed each other yet?” Allura asked after a few moments of awkward silence. They had left the field, now moving onto a winding path through the woods. Shiro shook his head, grateful for the change of subject. “I don't think so. They're really pretty similar, if Keith was less awkward and Lance was less bullheaded,” he remarked.  
Allura shrugged. “I don't know. I think Lance is still struggling to come to terms with the fact that he's not the best out there, and Keith is kind of a brutal reminder of that.” Now it was Shiro’s turn to shrug. “Not exactly. I think Lance is… not as confident as he seems. It's rough for him, having someone who challenged him like Keith does all the time. Top that off with the fact that neither of them are great communicators… I think they have the potential for a great friendship. But it won't be easy.”  
Allura looked at him, dubious. “If you say so,” she told him. “Speaking of them, though- you seem close to Keith. Is he doing all right?” Shiro twisted slightly in his saddle to look at her. “What do you mean?”  
She quirked one shoulder up in a partial shrug. “I dunno. He seems… distant. Like he doesn't really have any close friends.” Shiro considered it for a moment. “I guess not, no. But… he's kind of shy. And wary. He takes while to trust.”  
Allura’s concern did not seem diminished at all. “You don't know of anyone at school? A friend? Girlfriend?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows in a fashion which was probably intended to be suggestive, but which just looked silly. “No, not that I know of,” Shiro told her, stifling a smile.  
“What…” Shiro began, trailing off. “Go on,” Allura prompted. Shiro turned bright red. “What about… um… you?” He finally finished, uncharacteristically unconfident. Allura ducked her head away from Shiro. “You mean… am I dating anyone? Uh… no, not at the moment.”  
“Not at the moment?” Shiro finally looked at her. “Well…” Allura began. “Go on,” Shiro said, mimicking her earlier statement. “There's… there’s kind of a guy. But… it's not important. I, uh, don't want to… risk the friendship, and all that.” Shiro nodded, an inscrutable look in his eyes. “I see. Well. If you ever need to talk, talk about it, I mean… I'm here,” he told her, looking out into the forest as if he'd lost interest in the conversation.  
“Thanks,” Allura said quietly, eyebrows crinkling in confusion. Damn. She thought that would have been obvious enough. Apparently Shiro wasn't picking up on her subtle flirting. What to do now..? Allura wondered as they walked side by side, silent now besides the clip-clop of hooves along the path.  
A few lengths behind them, Coran and Matt gaped. “Does she think she's making it obvious?” Matt asked Coran incredulously. “I believe so,” he replied. “And why won't he LOOK at her now?” Matt wondered aloud, dropping the reins to throw his hands up in exasperation. Coran shook his head. “I dunno, my boy. I just don't know.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
“Blue’s pretty fast,” Keith commented as they fell into step beside each other once more, their lazy horses having been left behind by the others again. “Yeah,” Lance agreed. “She has, like, a speed mode. I dunno. She'd never do it in her show bridle, but…” he gestured to her bit. “I guess she knew it was okay.” Keith nodded and they walked in silence for a bit more.  
“I guess Mr. Pleasure Pony over there doesn't do speed?” Lance asked, looking at Ferrari. Keith scowled. “He does more than pleasure. Obviously.” Lance smirked. “But not the speed events.” Keith bristled more. “He doesn't need to. He does the horsemanship pretty damn well.” Lance winced.  
This time, the silence was awkward. It didn't go on for too long, though- soon, it was broken by the sound of splashing up ahead. Lance and Keith forgot the tension and looked at each other, puzzled. Then Lance’s face lit up. “I forgot about the stream!” he exclaimed, looking like a kid who’d just unwrapped a present. He urged Blue into a trot and Keith followed, curious.  
Around the curve, there was a small creek, only about five or six feet wide, and no more than two feet deep. The bottom was smooth and sandy, the water clear, slow, and shaded by the leafy forest surrounding the stream, and the horses rejoiced in the cool flow. Mack, Cooper and Jaz were on the opposite side, Coop occasionally pawing the water with his hoof. Felix and Matt traveled back and forth in the water, with Felix occasionally dunking his head under up to his eyeballs and pulling it out with a massive splash.  
Molly stood stock still in the middle of the stream, seeming not to care or even really notice that she was surrounded by flowing water. Even Diablo seemed to be enjoying himself, for once not pinning his ears flat back on his head.  
Lance and Blue trotted into the stream with a crash, water spraying everywhere in their midst. She tossed her head and snorted, flicking her tail in the water and sending droplets arcing everywhere. “Showoff,” Keith muttered. “Come on, Keith! The water’s fine!” Hunk called, waving a hand. Immediately after he said it, Molly gave a great shake and hauled herself out of the creek.  
“I guess we're leaving,” Hunk laughed. His friend gone, Diablo leapt out of the water after her, Pidge clinging onto his damp mane and Lance flinching away from the drops in his wake. “Plenty of room now,” Matt added, snickering.  
Keith nudged Ferrari with his feet. He walked forward easily until the water was nearly lapping at his feet. Then, he seemed to notice it for the first time. With a loud snort, he jumped back, legs stiffening and back arching like a cat. If he could've, Keith got the feeling he would have hissed. “Easy, boy,” he murmured gently, stroking Ferrari’s neck to calm him before pushing him forward again.  
Once again, he traveled right up to the edge without hesitation before jumping away. After nearly a dozen more attempts, Keith was at his wit’s end. “Great,” Keith muttered. “You're really helping my point that you can be versatile, buddy,” he told Ferrari, bracing himself for Lance's merciless teasing. Instead, he was greeted with Blue and Lance crossing back over to his side of the stream.  
Keith watched, unsure, as Lance dismounted and walked over. Blue’s reins slung over his shoulder, he left the mare on his left and grasped Ferrari’s bridle with his right hand. “C’mon, baby,” he crooned to him, leading him forward. “Easy- hey! Come on now. Get over it,” he said sharply as they reached the creek.  
Hesitantly, Ferrari put a foot in, looking at Blue for reassurance. Another step followed the first, and then another, until all four hooves were submerged and Lance was soaked to above his knees. “What are you doing?” Keith asked him incredulously. Lance looked up. “Helping you out. He didn't look like he wanted to go.” He continued leading the pair through the stream, the faint current rippling at his thighs.  
“I could have gotten him!” Keith rebutted defensively. “Yeah…” Lance said. “I was just trying to help…” Keith felt a little bad after he saw the pouty look on Lance’s face. Damn those blue puppy dog eyes! “Thanks,” he muttered quietly, but Lance heard- at least, if the way smile brightened was anything to go by. “But of course,” was his only reply.  
A few more steps and they were across the river. Lance led Ferrari and Blue all the way out, petting the gelding’s neck and giving him a solid kiss on the nose before returning to his own horse and showering her with attention.  
Standing a short distance away, the other riders gaped. Matt, exiting the stream last, stage whispered what all of them were thinking. “Did we just witness… Lance McClain, VOLUNTARILY being nice, not only to Keith Kogane, his sworn arch nemesis, but also to Keith Kogane’s horse?”  
Lance scowled. “Hey! I will have you know I am ALWAYS a gentleman, even to my arch nemises, which Keith is NOT. Puh-lease. Also, even if we WERE arch nemeses, why should my grudge extend to Ferrari?” he asked, jutting his hip out and sassily placing a hand on it.  
“Ya know, the wannabe Shakira hips are even less effective when you're dripping wet from about two feet down,” Pidge observed. Everyone, including Keith, chuckled, warranting a glare from Lance. “Wannabe Shakira,” he muttered. “I'll show you-”  
“Okay!” Allura cut him off with her authoritative shout. “Now that we're all on the same side of the creek, let’s continue! Lance, are your legs dry enough that you won't mess up your saddle?” Lance considered for a moment, then scowled even more than before. “No. Not yet,” he said glumly.  
“Walk for a bit- they should dry fairly fast,” Allura consoled him. “I'll walk with you,” Hunk offered. “I got it,” Keith said quickly. Everyone's heads turned in surprise, Lance’s included. “Well, I am the reason you have to walk, anyways. Even though I would have gotten it without you. Still,” he backtracked at a sour look from Lance. “I should- I mean, I don't mind walking with you,” Keith told him.  
Lance considered for a moment, then shrugged. “Sure, why not,” he said rhetorically. “Alright. Cool,” Hunk answered, turning back to Pidge. “Anyways, back to why Marvel is clearly superior to DC.”  
“NONE OF YOUR BLASPHEMY!” Pidge cried. Further up, Shiro raised his eyebrows at Allura, looking pointedly at the two boys bringing up the rear- Lance in his blue T-shirt and soaked jeans, leading Blue, and Keith with his red button down and black jeans, atop Ferrari, chatting as amiably as either of them could remember. Allura offered a shrug of concession. “Maybe you were right,” she responded quietly. “Maybe,” Shiro said, watching the pair. “Hopefully.”  
Matt and Coran exchanged devious looks, watching Lance and Keith bantering- watching Lance laugh, his brief upset forgotten, and Keith half-smile, opening up more and more with every back and forth. “Do you think…” Matt trailed off questioningly, stroking Felix’s neck absentmindedly. “Yes,” Coran replied decisively. They grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Avery here! This chapter is our late birthday gift to everyone's favorite blue paladin! (And my attempt at earning redemption from all of you lovely readers whom I abandoned for the summer. I am deeply, truly sorry.) Let me know how you felt about it in the comments, or drop some kudos. I freak out at every piece of praise (just ask Flash- she gets about two hundred all caps texts with every comment y'all write) [ It's true! -Flash ] ! Hope y'all are having a wonderful week and whatever you're doing in life, keep it up!  
> -Avery
> 
> yoyoyo everybody its ur main man Flash here! It's like 2am when im posting this and honestly ive been crying over how much i fucking love Lance. he's a pure boy and deserves all the love this chapter gives him and more! please help me i havent slept in two days. AnyWAys please comment. everytime you comment about 5 years are added to my lifeforce. i love my dead gay son.  
> Edit: We made a tumblr!! If you check it out you can see pictures of the different horses as well as descriptions of their personalities! You can ask us questions and stuff about the fic and get updates on what we're doing :https://victory-lap-disposition.tumblr.com/  
> -Flash


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terms  
> shavings- usually wood or pine based, used as bedding for horses  
> saddle and bridle racks- used to hold saddles and bridles; typically portable  
> reining- a high speed, intense class involving lead changes, spins, run downs, sliding stops, and more.  
> show office- where show entries are made and finalized; basically the headquarters of the show  
> flaxen- white or silver  
> circuit champion- the winner of a class in a particular division  
> bands- the small ponytails a horse’s mane is typically ordered into for shows  
> colicking- a condition of the horse which basically amounts to a severe stomachache. there are several types, with degrees of severity ranging from mild to fatal. colic is easy to diagnose but difficult to gauge, and can be brought on by stress, changes in diet or environment, etc.

Mid-August

“WE ARE HERE!” Lance shouted joyously as the Altea Performance Horses crew pulled up to the showgrounds. “The party may BEGIN!” He hopped out of the passenger seat of Hunk’s truck, waving his arms wildly. In the vehicle behind him, Pidge rolled her eyes as she and her brother climbed out, their truck still idling. Up ahead, Allura, Shiro, and Coran had climbed out of the huge white dually, Allura stepping down from the driver’s seat.   
“Okay, guys. You know the drill. Well, except for Keith. Keith, you, Pidge, and Matt unload horses. Hunk, Shiro, Coran, and I unload the stuff. Lance goes to get our stalls unlocked and order shavings. Let's move, guys!” she called. Everyone scurried away to their respective jobs. “What was our time last time?” Pidge asked as she backed Diablo out of the trailer hooked to Matt’s truck. “11 minutes and 47 seconds,” Shiro answered as he walked pasts briskly, toting a wheelbarrow chalk full of saddle and bridle racks.   
“But our record is 10.29,” Allura reminded her, carrying a large mat to lay down on the floor of the tack stall to minimize dust. Pidge nodded and set to work again. Within five minutes she was leading Diablo, Molly and Buttercup into the barn, impressively managing to fend off the frisky two year and keep all three horses in line. Behind her, Keith held Ferrari’s lead in one hand and Blue’s in the other, and Matt led in Sunshine, Hunk’s reining horse, and Felix.   
They wound their way through the labyrinth of stalls, headed to their usual spot- a corner aisle near the concession stand and one of the warm up arenas. Lance met them there, directing a facility employee as to where to put the shavings. “6 for each- no, that's a tack stall,” they heard him say before he noticed they'd arrived. “Oh, hey guys. Okay. Diablo in the corner, Molly beside him, tack stall next to her, then Sunshine, then Felix, another tack stall, then Buttercup, then Blue, then Ferrari, last tack stall. Got it?” he rattled off.  
“Sir yes sir!” Pidge called, already beginning to lead the horses she held into their assigned stalls. “This is way more intense than unloading at the last show was,” Keith said somewhat breathlessly. Hunk laughed. “Yeah. Breed shows are a whole different animal. It's alright, though. We still have fun. It's just- well, like you said. More intense,” he told Keith, who nodded in agreement.  
Seemingly seconds later, after a flurry of activity all up and down the aisle, there was a quiet stillness. “Stop the clock!” Allura yelled. Coran pressed a button on his watch with a flourish, turning to face the rest of the barn. “Team Voltron,” he began, prompting laughs from everyone. “Our time this Friday, August 18 is… ten minutes and forty nine seconds!” There was a mixed reaction of cheers and groans. “So close,” Lance moaned.   
“That was… not your fastest?” Keith asked, flabbergasted. “No,” Hunk told him mournfully. I mean, it was pretty good, but… this one time, our record time? Man. That was fast. This time was actually pretty average. Last time Lance was whining about a broken toe. It slowed us down a lot.”  
“My toe was broken!” Lance cried, outraged. Hunk shrugged. “Maybe so. Still not an excuse to drag down our time, man.” Lance scoffed in mock betrayal and shock. “When you think someone's your best friend,” he muttered. “So… that's it? We're set up?” Keith asked. Lance and Hunk nodded at him. “Now time for you all to go enter,” Allura said, appearing behind them and placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder and handing him a slip of paper. “And- your other birthday gift, albeit a very late one. This show’s on us, Lance. Use that check to pay.”   
Lance's jaw dropped. “No. Way. Are you serious?” Allura nodded at him. “Thank you so much!” he squealed, enveloping her in a hug and snaking an arm out to snag Shiro and drag him into the hug. Matt jumped in from the side, wrapping his arms around Shiro. Coran joined in, too, laughing. “GROUP HUG!” Hunk yelled, grabbing Pidge and Keith and adding on to the hug.   
They grumbled but didn't pull away, and the hug continued for a solid  
minute- until Matt pulled away, saying, “Well, that was fun, but now it feels slightly awkward.” They all laughed, but Lance's sounded a bit choked. “Lance,” Shiro ventured cautiously. “Are you alright?”  
He sniffled. “I-I-I'm not crying! You're crying!” he yelled before dashing away towards the show office.  
Hunk shrugged, then followed at a much slower pace, Keith and Pidge behind him. Matt watched them go for a moment before Coran nudged him. “You need to enter, too,” he reminded him. “Oh crap. WAIT FOR ME!” Matt yelled, scrambling after them.   
Once the group arrived at the show office, Lance paused before shoving the door open dramatically. “Hello, lovely ladies!” he announced, sweeping in. The show secretaries met him with wide smiles. “Lance!” the tallest of them greeted him. “How've you been?!”   
“Good, good!” he replied with a grin. “We,” he continued, setting down a few papers on the table separating the show secretaries from he and the others, “Are here… to enter!” Another of the secretaries, this one shorter and blonde, slid a sheet across the table to him. “You know the drill,” she instructed. “Thanks Shannon. Mary. Frida,” he said to each of them in turn. “These guys need some entry forms, too, please,” he said, jabbing his thumb behind him at the others.  
Mary, the curly haired blonde sitting in the middle, handed each of them a paper. They filled them out, checking off each class they wanted to enter, showing the secretaries which stalls they were renting, paying for Allura and Keith’s trailer hookup spots so they could stay the night on the grounds, and bidding farewell to the show secretaries.  
“Hunk, don't you show tonight?” Keith asked as they walked back to the stalls. “Yeah,” Hunk answered. “I have Ranch Pleasure and Ranch Trail tonight on Molly, then Ranch Riding on Molly and Reining on Sunshine tomorrow, then halter with Buttercup on Sunday.” Lance whistled long and low. After a while, Hunk spoke up again.   
“I entered Buttercup and I in showmanship, too. Just the Novice, but… I still don't know if it was a good idea,” he confided. “Hell yeah it was!” Lance shouted, flailing his arms and spinning around to face Hunk. “In this case, I agree with Lance,” Pidge said, shifting her glasses on her nose. “You and Buttercup are killer at showmanship. You'll do great.” Keith nodded. “I think you'll be fine. Did you consult Allura first, though?”  
“...No.” Hunk looked sheepish. “But you've been working with her a lot on this, right?” Lance asked him, shooting Keith a glare. “Well, yeah,” Hunk agreed. “Then you'll be fine! She'll be fiiiiine with it. You'll see.” Keith scowled back at Lance’s glare, but caved. “Yeah. You'll be fine,” he reassured Hunk.  
Hunk smiled at them all. “Thanks, guys,” he said. “For what it's worth, I agree that you will rock it, but my SHOW just dropped season 3, so I'm about five minutes behind on this conversation,” Matt added from a few steps behind the rest of the group.   
“Team!” Allura yelled as they rounded the corner, polishing it off with a ballerina- like twirl. “Saddle up, everyone! Hunk, we’ll get Molly ready for you. Coran’s holding your clothes, you should go change. Everyone meet down at the practice pen over by the entrance to the arena, alright everyone?!”   
“Yes ma'am!” Lance shouted back, and they all burst into motion. Within ten minutes, the horses were all saddled and being led towards the aforementioned practice pen. Coran led Molly, whispering unintelligibly into her ear as they walked.   
Once to the pen, they all mounted up, Matt boosting Pidge on once more. Hunk jogged up on foot a few minutes later, looking sharp in all black with a gold scarf. “Lookin’ good, Hunk!” Lance called, bending Blue’s neck to get her stretched out. “Thanks,” Hunk replied weakly. “Hey, hey, hey, my man,” Lance said, seeing the nervous sweat breaking out all over Hunk’s face. “You got this, okay? You are gonna rock it completely. I have faith in you and Molly. Go DO this!”  
Hunk nodded at him, smiling nervously. “Remember to keep her slow and paying attention,” Allura advised. “Clean run above all.” Hunk nodded to show that he understood. “Good luck!” Pidge, Keith, and Coran chorused as Hunk entered the alleyway, headed to the entrance gate. “Rock it, my dude!” Lance told him, shooting finger guns. “You got this!” Matt called from aboard Felix. “C’mon, Hunk! Make me proud, son!” Shiro yelled.  
They all turned to look at him in amazement (with the exception of Hunk, who was now hyper focused on his class). “ShowDad™ confirmed, guys!” Pidge said after a brief, awkward silence. “What?! No… I'm young… I'm not…” Allura patted the bewildered Shiro’s shoulder. “Yes, you are. Now accept it and shush. Hunk’s starting.”  
“When did he have time to learn his pattern?” Lance whispered incredulously as Hunk began his trail pattern. Keith turned to look at him, somewhat astonished. “They've been posted online for a week,” he whisper-shouted back. Lance’s eyes widened. “Oops,” he breathed quietly. “I heard that,” Allura muttered to them from a few feet down.   
She was perched on the side of the gate, peering over the wooden fence to watch Hunk’s run. “Careful, careful… Oh! Slow! Easy… Good…” she kept a quiet monologue flowing, watching Hunk’s pattern with laser like intent. “Perfect so far,” Pidge told Keith and Lance, who were positioned on either side of her. “Well, they need to work on transitions some, but other than that, perfect,” she corrected herself.   
“Alright. This box/back/sidepass obstacle is the trickiest one. Every moment is crucial, so watch caref-”   
Before Pidge could finish, Diablo nickered loudly and threw his front legs into the sky, pawing the air viciously, then thundered back down to the ground and took off at a gallop around the warm-up pen, squealing. Keith and Lance exchanged alarmed glances for a moment before bursting out laughing.   
“You panini-head!” they heard Pidge scold Diablo from across the pen, which sent them into more ecstatic laughter. At some point, Keith snorted, which amused Lance even further and caused Keith to turn fire hydrant red.   
Hunk jogged out of the pen to cheers from the stands and was greeted by two of his teammates doubled over in laughter, their horses seeming confused and, in Feerari’s case, slightly unsettled, and one teammate clinging on to her crazed mount. “Guys…” he grumbled, stroking Molly’s long flaxen mane.  
“How was it?” asked Lance, slightly out of breath, as he and Keith sobered up. Beside them, Pidge managed to pull Diablo to somewhat of a stop, the tovero now prancing in place instead of making laps around the pen. Hunk shrugged. “Pretty good, I think.”   
“It was FANTABULOUS,” Allura clarified, walking up and slapping Molly on the rump in a complimentary fashion. “Good girl, Molls.” Shiro nodded his assent. “Nice run, Hunk.” The tall teenager grinned bashfully. “Thanks.”   
The group sat around and chatted for a few more minutes until the ring stewart called Hunk’s class back in for placings. Nearly twenty horses marched back into the pen, all of their riders looking nervous, excited, or some mix of the two. After everyone was back in the pen, the loudspeaker crackled to life.  
“We have the placings now for our 18 and Under Youth Ranch Trail under all 4 judges. Beginning with Judge A, Madison McCarvatan, first place is number 234, Hunk Garret and Pure Gold Zippo…” the next few placings were drowned out to the ears of everyone in Altea Performance Horses by their own cheers. They quieted only when they heard the announcer begin, “...and under Judge B, Stephen Farthing, first place, number 234, Hunk Garret…”  
They broke out in cheers all over again. Gleeful, Allura wrapped her arms in an impromptu hug around Shiro, who stiffened, then hugged back, a brilliant smile on his face. “Judge C, Hannah Stephenson, placed the class, first place, number 322, Martha Sheridan. Second, 234, Hunk Garret,” the announcer called. The group cheered again, shrugging a little at the change in placings, but shaking it off. Second was still great.  
“Now,” began the announcer. “Congratulate, first place under Judge D, Robert Rivers, as well as your circuit champion, number 234, Hunk Garret and Pure Gold Zippo!” Shiro and Allura hugged again, amidst all the cheers. Lance high fived Pidge, shrugged, then offered a hand to Keith for a high five. Keith cocked his head, then tentatively tapped it with his own. “Nah, man,” Lance explained, motioning for Keith to put his hand up again and giving it a solid slap. “Now THAT’S a high five!” he yelled. Keith stifled a grin.  
“GO HUNK!” they all yelled as he returned to the practice pen. “One down, one to go,” he said, grinning. “Well… for today.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
“Lance, you do Keith’s hair, Pidge is having a wardrobe malfunction,” Allura shouted from a few stalls down. “On it!” Lance yelled back. It was 7:51 on show day- just 9 minutes away from starting time. All of them had been up for hours- well, except for Hunk, who had just woken up a few minutes ago and headed to McDonald’s with all of their orders.   
Their aisle was a flurry of activity-Shiro and Coran brushing horse and wiping down tack at light speed, Lance jamming bobby pins into Keith’s hair as they recited patterns back and forth to each other, Allura and Pidge struggling to repair a zipper on Pidge’s breeches.   
“Attention in the barn: We are five minutes from showtime,” the announcer’s voice boomed through the barn. “We have only two entries in our jumping classes this morning, so all of our walk trotters should be prepared to show before 9 am. Good morning to everyone!”  
“Aha!” Allura exclaimed, at last securing Pidge’s pants. “Phew. Lance, how's the hair coming?” Keith winced as Lance jabbed a pin aggressively under his helmet before replying, “Almost done!” Allura flashed them a thumbs up. “Matt? You ready?”  
“Born ready,” he responded with a wink, slipping the bit into Felix’s mouth. “Awesome. You're our first class today, and it's just hunter under, so… just go do your thing. You'll rock it. I know.” Matt grinned. “More like Felix will.”   
“Well, naturally,” Allura answered over her shoulder as she strode over to Blue’s stall where Shiro stood, checking the mare’s bands one last time. “How’s she look?” Allura asked him, eyebrows raised. “Perfect,” Shiro said, looking directly at Allura. There was silence for a beat.   
“I should… go clean Ferrari…”  
“I'll go check on Lance…”  
They both burst out at once. After freezing for a moment, Allura shook off her awkwardness and walked off to the tack stall where Lance and Keith sat. “You boys ready?” she asked, sitting beside them. “I've never felt more so,” Keith assured her. “Ditto,” Lance agreed through a mouthful of hair pins and bobby pins.   
“Looks good,” Allura approved after examining Keith for a moment. “You're pretty good at that, Lance.” He executed a mock-dramatic bow. “I do try.” He and Keith took a moment to check themselves over in the mirror in the tack stall. Per tradition (and the rulebook), they both wore clean tan breeches, knee high black leather boots, navy or black hunt jacket over plain white collared shirts, and black, velvety helmets. They still had very distinct styles, though.  
Lance’s undershirt had “L.M.” embroidered on it in a cursive font in light blue on the color. He also wore small faux pearl earrings and flaunted flawless, natural looking makeup with a hint of cat eye. Keith’s shirt had “K.K.” embroidered in red, and his jacket had very light silver pinstripes on it. Lance nodded in approval at their reflections. “We look hot. Well, mostly me. But you don't completely ruin the picture,” he commented. Keith punched him in the arm.   
“No fighting in show clothes,” Pidge reminded them, leading Diablo past. Just then, the loudspeaker buzzed noisily. “Our first class is under way now. Everyone in walk trot or practice hunter under classes, or in youth walk trot equitation, please make your way to the in gate soon. Thank you!”  
“That's my cue,” Matt said, swinging atop Felix. “Let's go, buddy.” Behind him, everyone continued getting ready, calling out variations of “Good luck!” after him. Allura walked on one side of him, quizzing him over his equitation pattern, while Shiro walked on his other side, a grooming bag slung over his shoulder.  
“Let's get this show on the road!” Matt whooped as he headed to the arena.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
“Okay, Lance, Keith. No pressure, but… keep up the streak, boys,” Pidge told them as they entered the pen for their equitation class. Lance stuck his tongue out at her, Keith rolling his eyes at their immaturity. “Ignore her!” Allura called. “Just do your best, and ride like you do in practice.”  
Lance took a deep breath. He could already feel the buzz of the show pen seeping into his limbs. His stomach fizzled with butterflies, but in a way that sharpened his focus. “Do I have a volunteer to go first?” the ring steward asked, facing the row of horses and riders. Lance lifted his hand, grinning. “Yes ma'am!”  
The steward waved him up to the cone, where Lance kept an eye on the judges, up in the stands. After a few moments, they all looked up at him and nodded. Lance breathed deeply again, then nudged Blue with his heels, clucked, and she trotted off. He focused. Breathe. In, out. In, out. Heels down. In, out. Chin up. In, out. Smile. In, out. Balance. In, out. Slower. In, out. Quieter. In, out. Stop. In, out. Done. In.   
Out.  
Cheers erupted from the stands and the gate. “Nice!” Hunk called, cupping his hands over his mouth. Keith shot Lance a smile from a few horses over as Lance returned to the rail. “Good job,” he mouthed. “Thanks, good luck!” Lance yelled in response. Keith shook his head, hiding his grin.  
Lance zoned out for a while, catching only glimpses of the other runs. He watched all of Keith’s, though- it was very nice. Smooth and flowing, like his always were. Lance slipped back into his reverie after shooting Keith a thumbs up, only being jolted out of it when the announcer’s voice boomed out of the speakers.   
“We have the placings for your Youth 14-18 Equitation class at this time. Under Judge A, first place is number 414, Lance McClain and Iron On Magic!” Lance leaned down and patted Blue hard, a grin splitting his face. “That's my boy!” Hunk shouted from the stands. “Second is 200, Sheri Far and Sensationally Zippoed. Third is 413, Keith Kogane and GSR A Real Prince.” Cheers drowned out the announcer again, Lance's voice among them.  
“Judge B placed the class, first number 414, Lance McClain.” Lance whispered to Blue, “Good girl. Good job, girl.” Keith was called fifth under the second judge. Judge C’s placings were called, listing Lance as 4th and Keith 3rd. Under the final judge, Lance placed second, Keith right behind him in third. “And now, please congratulate your circuit champion, number 414, Lance McClain and Iron On Magic!” Lance smiled again. Not a bad start.  
\--------------------------------------------------------  
“Go Altea!!!!!” Pidge screamed, walking back with Lance after the western riding. They'd finished out the day well, Pidge doing decent in all of her classes, Matt winning circuit champion in all of his classes, Keith winning trail and placing well in hunter under, Lance doing incredibly well in hunter under, placing a bit in the trail, and finishing up with a beautiful western riding run, and Hunk hands down winning the reining. Allura had even won the Senior trail on Molly, showing up all of the stuffy trainers on their far more expensive horses.   
When they reached the stalls, Lance hopped off and began to strip off all of his show clothes, handing Blue to Pidge. Shiro began unsaddling her for him as Lance quickly changed into more casual clothes. He grabbed a handful of treats and headed back out, taking Blue’s lead and thanking Pidge and Shiro. With that, he headed to the wash rack to rinse her.   
As her hooves clopped on the cement, Blue stopped and twisted her neck around, snapping her teeth at her side. “Easy, honey,” Lance cooed, walking her forward again. She moved forward, allowing him to tie her to the bar in front of the water faucets. As he began to rinse her off, scrubbing sweat stains off of her, she pinned her ears, something unprecedented for Blue. “You okay, Blue?” Lance asked, concerned, stroking her ear. Blue responded by kicking up at her stomach.   
“Oh, no,” Lance muttered, moving down her barrel to lay his head against her flank. “Blue? Easy, girl. Easy, please.” He listened to her gut for a moment. “Shit,” he said, feeling a sting in his eyes. “Allura? ALLURA!” he shouted, voice getting louder. She whirled around the corner, looking irritated. “What, Lance?!”   
His voice quivered. “Allura… I think Blue is colicking.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Avery here! Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Also, comments and kudos make you one of my favorite people, so please drop some if you appreciated it! (Or even if you hated it. Just… let me know!) Also, this is random, but… y'all, Flash is the best. She's an amazing human who makes everyone around her happier and who has helped me so much, more than she could even know. So… I love you, Flash, my biannual bestie. Just a PSA. Alright! AVERY OUT!
> 
> Hey Guys! So THE SOLAR ECLIPSE WAS TODAY AND I WAS RIGHT IN THE PERFECT SPOT FOR TOTALITY IT WAS AMAZING!!! ahem sorry. Things are starting to move forward this chapter! kinda left you on a cliffhanger there at the end. please comment and such we LOVE that shiz. give us that sweet sweet feedback. I ALWAYS will reply i promise. Also Avery is one of the strongest, most amazing people in the world! just a note.   
> Also go follow our tumblr! we post pictures of the horses, tell you when a new chapter is up and other things!  
> link: https://victory-lap-disposition.tumblr.com/
> 
> -Flash


	6. Ch 5 (continuation)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Terms  
> Hunter Under Saddle- a class in which riders show their horse’s gaits in the English style  
> Western Pleasure- The rider shows off their horse’s gaits in a western style  
> English- a style of riding typically associated with jumping. English saddles are lightweight, with thin leather straps securing the metal stirrups to the saddle.   
> Western- a style of riding which is typically associated with ranch/cow work. Western saddles are larger and sturdier, with a horn in the front.   
> Ranch horse classes- a set of classes similar to normal performance classes, but judged based on a ranch style. Horses are not required to be as polished looking- judges are instead looking for the horse/rider team most capable and suited to life on the ranch.   
> Ranch Trail/Trail: a rider rides their horses through various obstacles and are judged by the horse’s response to the obstacles and riders.  
> Ranch Riding- a set pattern, similar to horsemanship, but done in a ranchier style  
> Ranch Reining- ranch version of reining
> 
> (There is a lot this chapter sorry lol :P)

Allura walked over to Blue, leaning over and listening to her gut. Her expression morphed into something vaguely troubled. “Shiro,” she called. “Yep?” he asked, popping his head out from Diablo’s stall, which he was cleaning. “I need some Banamine. It’s Blue.” Shiro’s expression instantly became serious. Allura patted Lance’s shoulder. “She’s gonna be okay. It’s probably stress induced from the show. She’ll be fine.” He nodded, struggling to disguise his sniffles. Keith walked over, looking puzzled. Lance glared at him. “What did I do this time?” Keith asked, beginning to get angry. “Blue’s colicking,” Allura explained tersely, walking past him to the tack stall. “Oh,” Keith breathed, irritation instantly disappearing. “Here- uh, I’ll, I’ll help you rinse her and keep her walking. I mean, if you want,” he offered. Lance paused for a moment, then nodded.  
They rinsed Blue off quickly, Keith scrubbing off the sweat stains as Lance went over her with the water hose, both of them soothing her as they went. She was clearly agitated, pinning her ears at both boys anytime they approached her head and flicking her tail angrily at her dappled barrel. “It’s okay, honey. It’s gonna be okay,” Lance whispered to her, fingers tangled in her mane and eyes screwed shut tightly. Keith placed an awkward hand on Lance’s back. “She’ll be okay,” he attempted to comfort. “Thanks,” Lance said, not sounding comforted in the least. “Let’s just go take her to Allura and get her some Banamine.” Keith nodded and followed him back to the tack stall, where Allura waited with a needle and syringe.   
“Woah, woah, easy, sweetheart,” Coran told Blue, holding her nose as Lance struggled to keep the mare’s neck still while Allura administered the medicine. She carefully inserted the needle, checked to be sure she had hit the vein, then slowly and steadily depressed the plunger. After the syringe was empty, Allura rechecked to be sure she’d stayed in the vein, then took the needle out. “Thanks,” Lance told Allura and Coran. “Of course. Keep her walking, and don’t let her lay down and roll, whatever you do.” Lance nodded, and everyone was tactful enough not to mention the tears that had returned to his eyes. Lance petted Blue’s neck gently, careful to avoid the spot where droplets of blood rolled slowly down. He clucked and they walked off together, headed to the warm-up arena.  
After a few strides, Lance turned his head, sniffling, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “What, Keith?” he snapped. Keith recoiled a bit at the force behind Lance’s words. “I-I just thought maybe you wouldn’t want to be alone? I get it, you and I aren’t really friends, but you claim you don’t hate me, and- you know what, nevermind. I’ll just-”   
“Keith.”  
“Yeah?”  
“It’s fine. Thanks.” Keith stopped for a second, then quickened his pace so he could walk beside Lance. “Okay. I also thought-”  
“And Keith?” Lance began, prompting Keith to roll his eyes and sigh in annoyance at being interrupted. “Yes, Lance?” he drawled. “We are friends.”  
“Oh.”  
There was a slightly awkward pause. Lance offered Keith a half-hearted smile, eyes still shining with tears. Keith gave him a small, half-hearted smile back. “So…” Keith said again after a moment. “So, since you probably want to keep an eye on Blue tonight, do you, uh, want to stay in my trailer with me? I have bunk beds, so it should be fine. If you want to.” Lance looked over at him, a little surprised. “Seriously?” he asked, a trace of his usual enthusiasm back in his tone and bearing. Keith shrugged. “Yeah. Least I can do. Since we’re friends and all.” Lance grinned at him and Keith laughed a little to himself.   
They walked for a while more, Lance tugging Blue’s head up every so often to keep her from going to the ground. “Thanks,” Lance said after a few minutes, in an almost off-handed fashion. “Yeah,” Keith said. “Like I said. Least I can do.” They fell back into companionable silence. After walking a few more laps, Lance turned his head, looking at Keith from the opposite side of Blue’s head. “So… I’m sorry if this crosses a line. I’m not great with lines? Ya know? But, just, I dunno. I’ve been wondering it for a while, so… Well, I…” Keith arched an eyebrow at him, causing Lance to huff out a breath, exasperated. “Where are your parents?”  
They walked in silence for a few moments. “See, this is why, I didn’t want your emo ass to-” Keith cut Lance off. “My parents died when I was 12. I lived with my uncle until I was 16, then I applied and became an emancipated minor. So I live by myself in an apartment now. They weren’t rich, but they left enough money for me to live off of for a while. And show. So… loaded question, man.” Lance stopped, turning to Keith. “Oh. Damn, I’m… I’m sorry. That was… a bad question.” Keith shrugged. “I answered it.”  
“So you did,” Lance agreed. “Okay. Your turn.” Keith’s brow furrowed. “What?” Lance raised his eyebrows. “Your turn to ask a question. Duh!” Keith sighed. “Okay. Fine. I guess… do you have any siblings?” Keith didn’t miss the way Lance’s face brightened a little at the question. “I have an older sister named Rosa, she's 22 and about to go to law school, an older brother named Antonio who's 19 and in college for engineering, and two little siblings, Leo and Maria. They're twins-they're 9. Maria’s already a heartbreaker.”  
Keith smiled slightly without even noticing. Lance’s eyes had gone soft, the worry draining from his face a bit as he thought about his family. Without really knowing why, he committed the information to memory. Lance is a middle child. Lance loves his family. Just like remembering that Lance had brown hair. And hazel eyes. And the most ridiculous, goofy grin. Just stuff any barnmate- any friend- should know.  
They walked around a bit more, chatting, as Blue gradually settled and seemed to recover. She had ceased kicking and biting at her sides, although she was still clearly uneasy. “Boys!” Allura shouted. They both jumped a bit, neither having noticed her approach the warm-up pen. “You're probably good. She can come back to her stall. Just tie her up and make sure she doesn't have access to any hay or feed.”  
“Yes ma'am,” Lance said, more of his usual jokiness in his tone than had been present since Blue’s diagnosis. Allura gave them a warm smile, then spun and walked away briskly. “Why's she in such a hurry?” Keith asked, a little offput. “Oh, she has a ton of banding to do tonight. She helps out this girl who shows halter horses who doesn't have a trainer, but has, like, ten horses. Allura’s a saint,” Lance answered. Keith nodded in agreement.   
They worked quickly to remove all traces of feed and hay from Blue’s stall, clean and refill her water, and cushion her stall as much as possible, since she'd have to stay tied tonight. As they turned to walk out of her stall, Lance hesitated, turning around and dropping a kiss on Blue’s muzzle. “Please be okay, baby,” he murmured to her under his breath, and Keith frowned. Poor Blue, he thought. And poor Lance.  
\---------------------------------------------------  
“Sorry, I don't have a ton of pillows,” Keith said to Lance from the top bunk, hearing the other boy shifting on the bunk below. “It's fine. Thanks again for letting me crash here.” Keith nodded before realizing the stupidity in that. “Yeah. No problem.”  
There was a moment of silence before Lance piped up again. “Ya know, we kinda suck at the question game.” Keith rolled his eyes. “And you kinda suck at sleeping.” A beat of silence. “What'd you mean?”  
“We only asked two questions!” Keith glared through the mattress at the bunk beneath him, silently burying his face in his pillow for a moment before lifting back up again to speak. “Your point being?” Keith asked, voice monotone. “We should keep playing!” Lance fired back loudly. Keith winced a bit at the volume. “What about, I dunno, SLEEP?” he asked.  
Lance’s head popped out the side of the beds, peering up at Keith. “You can sleep at shows?!” This gave Keith pause for a moment. “Point taken. Okay. Fine. Go.” Lance flopped back onto the bottom bunk. “Do you… um… oh! What's your favorite subject?!” Keith arched a single eyebrow, though he knew Lance couldn't see it. “Really? That's your question?”  
“Just answer it!” Keith sighed. “Fine. Math, I guess. I took pre-cal last year. This year I'm in statistics. You?” Lance whistled long and low (and waaaay too loudly). “Dang! Oh. Me? Uh… Well… Not math. I like art. And theatre? And… I guess I like English. But not always. It depends on what we read.” Keith huffed out a little breath. “Wow. Wouldn't have guessed that one. What's your favorite book?”   
“Hey!” Lance called. “It's MY turn. But, my favorite book is probably The Great Gatsby. Fashion and drugs, ya know? Kidding. Maybe. Kind of. Also, Jay and Nick were TOTALLY the power couple of that book. Pfft. But. It's my turn. So… what's your favorite song?”  
Keith blushed, thanking heaven Lance couldn't see it. He'd never live this one down. Silence stretched out. “Hmmm….?” Lance prompted from below. “Fine, fine,” Keith said at last. “It's… Na Na Na. By-”  
“By MCR! Oh my God, you are a closet Gerard Way fan! Oh, that is priceless. That is ADORABLE,” Lance rambled. Keith felt his face heat up even more. “Hey, it's- they're a good band!” he defended. “Well, yeah!” Lance agreed. Keith paused, blinking hard in surprise. “I mean, yeah, they're awesome! I was totally singing Teenagers the whole time we were showing Hunter Under today. It's just… it's so typical! Goth emo mullet boy likes MCR! I just… sorry, I dunno why it's so funny, it just…”  
He trailed off. Keith crossed his arms defensively, even though he know Lance couldn't see the gesture. As Lance finally finished laughing, he tried to apologize. “Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. I'm not judging, I just-”  
“It's fine,” Keith cut him off. “What about you? What's your favorite song?” he asked, ready to tease Lance mercilessly about whatever pop track he adored. “Cecily Smith by Will Connolly,” was not the answer he expected. “What?” Keith asked, a little stunned. “Uhh, Cecily Smith. It's by this guy who does a lot of musical theatre? Will Connolly? And, it's a love song? It's really pretty. I can play the first bit on guitar.”   
“Wow. Also unexpected.” Keith told him. Lance laughed a little. “Yeah, well. Bootylicious is second, so…” Keith laughed along with him. “Now THAT was what I was expecting,” he replied. They fell into silence for a moment. “I'm actually kinda tired,” Lance told Keith. “So am I,” he replied truthfully. It was odd, but somehow goofing off with Lance had worn him out. “Goodnight,” Lance called. “Night,” Keith responded, and the trailer became quiet as Keith drifted into sleep.  
\---------------------------------------------------  
Quiet, that is, until 2:23 am, when Lance disturbed the silence with his pacing. “What…” Keith groaned miserably when the footsteps awoke him. “Oh!” Lance exclaimed. “Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to wake yo-”  
“Then why the hell did you start clomping around?” Keith snarled at him. He pushed his hands through his hair harshly, taking a deep breath. “Ugh. Sorry. Just. What the hell?” he tried again. Lance looked sheepish. “Well, I slept for a few hours, then I woke up, because, I mean, I was really worried about Blue. But I didn't want to open the door and go see her because I didn't want to wake you plus it's storming and that's a really long walk and I'd rather not get struck by lightning and-”   
Keith cut Lance off by swinging his red plaid pajama clad legs over the top bunk’s railing. “C’mon,” he grunted, still blinking sleep from his eyes. “Let's go check on her.” Lance blinked at him, eyes wide. “Seriously?! Thank you! I-” Keith tried to put a finger over Lance’s lips, but he ended up more splaying a hand across his face. “Talk less. In fact, shut the hell up and let's just go. Please.” Lance nodded and handed Keith the keys to the truck.  
They both shoved their feet into their boots, then Lance threw open the door and they both sprinted the few yards to the truck. The rain woke Keith up a bit, and by the time the truck was started, he felt at least semi-conscious. “Sorry I snapped.” He said shortly to Lance, feeling a little guilty. “Sorry I woke you up at 2 am,” the other boy replied with yet another sheepish grin. Keith tapped the clock on the old truck’s display. “2:27, now.” Lance chuckled.   
They rolled into the small parking area that sat under the cover, thankful for the emptiness the early morning provided. Keith hopped down out of the driver’s seat, Lance jumping down on the other side. Lance waited for Keith, bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet as kept locked the truck and trudged as quickly as he could over to him. They walked into the barn, squinting under the merciless army of fluorescent lights as they made their way to the stalls. Ferrari nickered as they approached, so Keith stopped and petted him.  
“Sleep, Red,” he advised him. Ferrari snorted, seeming to say, “Follow your own advice, moron.” Keith shook his head. “Apparently this is friendship,” he told his horse before joining Lance at Blue’s stall. The Cuban boy was massaging circles into Blue’s neck with one hand, gently stroking her cheek with the other. Keith crept in and laid his head on her barrel, listening intently.   
“Anything?” Lance asked, coming up beside him, fingers still gently rubbing under Blue’s mane. Keith nodded. “Yeah. Not enough- still not healthy, but she has some gut sounds now. Has she drank anything?” Lance leaned over, checking the water buckets hung from the bars at the front of the stall. “Yeah. About… I dunno, a third of a bucket?” Keith tilted his head. “Well, it's something. She seems like she's in less pain, anyways,” he said.   
Lance nodded agreement, moving backwards to massage Blue’s withers. “Yeah.” Keith approached her head, holding a hand out for her to sniff and rubbing her ears with the other. She jerked her head up abruptly. “Oh. Don't like that. Got it,” he said, moving his hand down to her cheek. Lance smiled a little. “I think she's gonna be okay, Lance. She just got a little sick to her stomach.” Keith told him. He nodded again, not looking very convinced.  
Just then, Allura rounded the corner, Shiro tailing her. “Finally done,” she exclaimed happily, if somewhat exhaustedly, before noticing the boys. “Wh- Lance? Keith? What are you doing here?” Lance stared at his boots, silent. “Lance wanted to check on Blue,” Keith told Allura after a moment of awkward silence. Allura raised an eyebrow. “And you drove him? At… 2:37 am?” she asked, checking her phone. Keith shrugged, nodding. “I guess.”   
Allura and Shiro exchanged a secretive glance, prompting Lance and Keith to exchange a confused one. “Okay then. Well, goodnight. Or… good morning, I guess,” Shiro said, waving to them. “Did you just now finish banding?” Lance asked Allura. “Yes,” she said. “One of the fillies was being difficult. It's done now, though. Time to head to the hotel.”  
Shiro’s brow furrowed. “At this hour?” he asked, concerned. Allura shrugged. “Either that or stay in the barn,” she said jokingly. “Or you could stay with me. In my trailer, I mean,” Shiro blurted. “On the couch. Or I could take the couch. Either way. I-” Allura patted his arm. “Thanks! Couch is fine. I just need sleep,” she said, yawning.   
“Of course,” Shiro said, turning to lock up the tack stall (and hide his flamingly bright blush). Keith and Lance looked at him, then at Allura’s pink cheeks and twinkling eyes, then at each other. What. The. Heck?! Lance mouthed. I know! Keith mouthed back. “All done?” Allura asked Shiro, who nodded. “Then lead the way!” They wandered off, presumably to Shiro’s trailer.   
“What did we just witness?” Lance wondered aloud after they had vanished. “I have no earthly clue,” Keith responded. “But I think it's important.” Lance nodded, still gaping slightly. Blue nudged them both with her muzzle, as if to say, “Why are there four hands in this stall, and not one petting me?!” They both laughed and resumed loving on the mare, who soaked it up eagerly. “Feeling any better?” Keith asked Lance, who was crooning to his horse softly. Lance nodded.  
Silently, they gave Blue a few final pats, then walked out of her stall, Keith latching it carefully behind them. Blue nickered softly as they left, Lance pausing for a moment to blow her a final kiss. “See you tomorrow, baby,” he told her. She snorted and turned back to the corner of her stall, and then seemed to fall asleep instantly. The two boys laughed at her, heading back to Keith’s truck. They arrived after only about a minute of walking, the red vehicle illuminated sharply under the unforgiving streetlights.   
Keith made to walk over to the driver’s seat of the truck, but Lance stopped him with a hand on his elbow. Keith turned and looked at him, raising his eyebrows. “Yes?” he asked, drawing out the word. “Thanks,” Lance said, uncharacteristically quiet and sincere. “For everything.” Keith nodded, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. “Yeah,” he replied. “Of course.” He turned and walked to the other side of the truck, trying to control his incredibly bright blush. Lance watched him go, color high in his own cheeks, then shook his head, hard, confused. It’s late, he told himself. Just...worry about it tomorrow.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The shrill scream of an iPhone alarm burst into the peace of the trailer where the two boys slept. From the top bunk, Keith blinked away, hearing a high pitched shriek from below him, followed by a thunk and a loud, “OW!” He chuckled. Lance made a strange noise, somewhat like a cat whose tail had just been stomped on. “Did you just… hiss at me?” Keith asked, voice gravelly with sleep still. “MMPH!” Lance groaned eloquently. Keith heard another, even louder thump and looked down to see a blanket bundled Lance lying on the floor of the trailer, only his eyebrows and eyes visible above the layers of blankets he had wrapped himself in when they got back to the trailer early this morning.   
Keith rolled his eyes and climbed down the ladder, nudging Lance with his foot when he reached the ground and slipped past him to the tiny bathroom. As he changed and got ready to go up to the barn rapidly, he heard miserable noises and occasional high pitched screeches from the other part of the trailer. He finished up and opened the door again, and was greeted by the sight of Lance, still wrapped in blankets, but now sitting upright, hair in total disarray, eyes barely open. Keith laughed and flipped on the lights, triggering another screech from Lance, who collapsed on the ground again. “Lance.”  
Nothing. “Lance?” Keith tried again. He took a deep breath. “LANCE!!” Keith roared. “Wwwwwwwhat…….” the pile of blankets on the floor groaned. Keith grabbed the edge of the blankets and pulled quickly. They all slipped away, leaving just Lance curled up on the floor, gangly arms and legs askew. “Lance.” Keith said again. “What.” Lance replied again, voice dead. “Get up! We have to show today!” Lance blinked awake reluctantly. “Fine, fine, I’m awaaaaaake…” he grumbled. Keith grinned, stepping over Lance to pull a breakfast bar from the cabinet. “Hurry up. Get ready, or you’re walking to the barn,” he warned him. Lance grumbled as he got to his feet and staggered to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him slowly.   
Keith munched on his bar slowly for a few minutes, pulling out his phone to check over his patterns for today one final time. Only a few minutes later, Lance emerged from the bathroom in a panic, finally changed out of his pajamas and looking much more awake. “I don’t know what I did with my makeup! I swear I brought it! I had it yesterday, but I can’t find it, but I know I brought it-” Keith threw his breakfast bar wrapper at Lance’s head to shut him up, with a fair amount of success. “It’s fine. It’s probably in the tack stall. Besides, you can use my stuff if you want. I have some foundation and stuff that I think would work for you- second drawer from the top under the mirror.”  
Lance glanced at him, looking skeptical and confused. Now that he thought about, Keith realized that was how Lance looked most of the time. “What?” he challenged. “Don’t believe I have makeup?” Lance shook his head, seeming to snap out of his confusion. “Uhh, no. I believe you. I just don’t know why you’d have it… in my shade?” he clarified, gesturing to his tan skin and then to Keith’s much fairer skin. Keith scowled at him. “It’s a long story.” Lance didn’t move, still staring at him. “Lance!” Keith protested. “Tell me!” Lance shouted back. Keith winced. “Fine! I got a spray tan one time! It didn’t go well!” Lance’s jaw dropped.  
“You’re kidding.” Keith grimaced. “I wish.” Lance cackled, doubling over with laughter. Keith pulled out another breakfast bar, hurling it at Lance, who shrieked. “Shut up! Just go get your makeup on before we get in trouble with Allura!” Lance immediately sobered up and rushed to go put makeup on. Keith smiled. This had been… surprisingly fun.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Woot woot! GO HUNK! GO BUTTERCUP!” Lance cheered from just outside the arena, half dressed in his showmanship attire, half casual, holding Blue, who was all prepped for show, with only one hand. Hunk and his mare paused before exiting, posing for a picture with their reserve grand champion mare trophy. Buttercup lifted her muzzle and her upper lip, revealing her teeth and “smiling” for the picture. Everyone hooted with laughter, and Hunk’s grin was blindingly bright. “Not too bad yourself,” Hunk called to Lance, who bowed and bestowed a kiss on Blue’s muzzle. “I know, I know, my little hunt seat mare getting six halter points is good with me!” he exclaimed. Allura floated up, smiling and almost unnaturally happy, as she’d been all day. “Great job, Hunk! Keith, Pidge, go get your horses. Lance, go put Blue back in her stall. She needs to rest for a bit. She may be feeling better, but she’s still not 100%.” They all scurried off, yelling out an enthusiastic, “Yes ma’am!”  
Keith and Pidge walked briskly to the stalls together, Pidge occasionally attempting to bodycheck Keith and nearly falling over in the attempt. Lance and Blue followed behind them, Blue dragging her nose along the ground, much to Lance’s dismay. “Now I have to clean your muzzle again, Blue,” he whined as she sneezed, the dust filling her nostrils. Blue didn’t seem to care. In the background, the announcer blared. Lance sighed, taking in everything. This was the indescribable magic of shows, the thing that couldn’t be explained to anyone. This feeling of love and thrill and belonging and comfort, all at once. It was…  
“Lance! Help! Please!” Pidge’s insistent plea for help broke into his reverie. Hurriedly, Lance put Blue away and rushed over to help Pidge contain Diablo, who had decided he was not up for showing halter today. Together, they cornered the kicking, biting devil, and got the halter on, at which point Diablo gave up his fight and became as docile as a lamb. It didn’t take long for Pidge and Keith to be show ready, finishing up just as the announcer called for their class- Youth Geldings. Diablo remained quiet, but Pidge still watched him suspiciously from the corner of her eyes. “Good luck, guys!” Lance called as they walked the short distance up to the arena. “Thanks!” they both called back with a wave.   
As Lance watched them go, Hunk came up behind him, nudging his shoulder. “How’d your sleepover go?” he asked. Lance snorted. “It was fine, I guess. As good as could be expected from Emo McMullet,” he replied. Hunk lifted an eyebrow. “Lance. Lance, my bro. You two haven’t insulted each other once today- well except for you, just then. You fed Ferrari for him. He complimented your makeup-”  
“It is pretty exceptional today,” Lance broke into say. Hunk rolled his eyes. “Sure. Aaaaanyways. What I mean is, it obviously went better than ‘fine’. You two are being downright civil! You’re… you’re acting like friends!” Lance blinked at him in surprise. “We are friends! We’ve been friends! Why is this such a shock to everyone?” he protested. Hunk stared at him, eyes widening almost cartoonishly. “Seriously? You and Keith are friends? I thought he was your sworn rival and enemy for all of eternity?!” Lance nodded slowly. “Yeah…” he said, as if speaking to a very small child. “He is.” Hunk shook his head. “I… I don’t understand you, man. We’ve been best friends for… I don’t even know how many years, and I still don’t understand you.”  
Lance struck what he apparently considered a seductive pose. “That’s because the Lance-inator is a man of mystery. The chicks dig it,” he drawled with a wink. Now it was Hunk’s turn to snort. “Suuuure, they do.” Lance lifted himself up from where he was draped “seductively” against the wall to look Hunk in the eyes, thoroughly offended. “They do! The chicks AND the dudes love the Lance-inator!” Hunk scoffed. “When was your last relationship? Or date?” he asked him. Lance grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Hunk just laughed in response, triggering a sulky pout from Lance. “C’mon, let’s go see how Pidge and Keith place,” Hunk said, tugging Lance along as he kept pouting.   
They wove through the maze of horses filling the practice area portion of the arena, battling their way to where Altea Performance Horses had set up camp for the morning. “Hello again,” Allura greeted them. “Hunk, what did you do to Lance?” she asked after regarding the boy’s scowl for a moment. “I spoke naught but the truth!” Hunk insisted, holding his hands up in an “I’m innocent” gesture. Allura narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before turning to Lance with a much friendlier glance. “Lance, what did Hunk say?” Lance grumbled under his breath again. “I can’t help you if you don't talk!” Allura exclaimed sharply. “HunktoldmeIwasn’taCasanovabutit’salie!” Lance burst out, dramatically.  
“What?” asked Shiro, walking up behind them with Matt at his side, both holding drinks from the show concession stand. “I told Lance he wasn’t as suave as he thought he was, and he got all offended,” Hunk translated. Lance humphed. Allura and Matt laughed, but Allura immediately stifled it and tried to pass it off as a cough. Matt didn’t bother. Shiro frowned at them both, placing a consoling hand on Lance’s shoulder. Lance beamed appreciatively at him.   
Pulling up a foldable chair, Coran joined the conversation. “What are we discussing over here? Pidge and Keith are doing fine so far, if anyone cares.” Allura shrugged. “It’s halter, and their horses aren’t halter horses, so nope, not really,” she responded, taking a sip of a drink from Shiro. “That was mine,” he muttered quietly. Allura froze, her cheeks turning slightly pink. “Whoops.”   
“And we’re discussing Lance’s romantic life,” Matt said, drawing the attention away from the tension. Coran’s eyes widened with a concerning sparkle. “Lance’s romantic life, you say? So… it’s happening?” Everyone stared at him in confusion. “What?” Lance finally asked, after a worried silence. “The- the ship? You don’t see- no? Not yet? My bad,” Coran told them, trailing off. They stared at him again. “Well. That’s doin’ me a concern,” Matt announced, slurping at his drink and sticking his tongue out at Pidge, who was miming falling asleep in the class. A chorus of “same”s rang out from the small group.   
Conversation having been brutally murdered, they turned their attention to the pen, where the judges were finally turning in their cards with the results of the massive geldings class. Lance chuckled at Keith, who was still standing rigid and at attention, though nearly everyone else in the class was slouching by now, a few even leaning on their horses. At long last, the announcer crackled over the loudspeaker. “Youth Geldings class, you may relax in your spots. The results will be announced momentarily.”  
Finally, Keith relaxed, and Pidge completely gave up, crouching down to sit on her heels. “DON’T YOU GET THAT OUTFIT DIRTY, KATIE HOLT!” Allura bellowed at her, prompting her to shoot up. Lance glanced over at Shiro and laughed at the blatant admiration in his eyes. Poor guy was so obvious, he thought to himself. Did he not know how easy it was to see his crush? Lance shook his head, returning his attention to Keith and smiling as he saw him nose booping Ferrari, who looked extremely confused.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Alright, boys! This is our last class of the day for Altea. So let’s rock this! You guys have got this, so go make me proud!” Allura cheered them on as Keith and Lance headed into the horsemanship. Just outside of the arena, the entourage of trailers and vehicles which carted their barn to and from the shows waited, nearly fully loaded. Keith leaned down, patting Ferrari’s neck gently to soothe him since he often stressed in the arena. He glanced behind him, and Lance shot him a brilliant grin. Keith smiled back, taking a deep breath to prepare for the class. The final class. The last shot. He felt his nerves amping up.   
Beside him, Lance raised his hand, volunteering to go first in the class. The ring steward waved him up to the cone, but before he walked up, he leaned over to give Keith a high-five. Keith hesitated for a moment, confused, but then slapped Lance’s palm. “Good luck!” Lance wished him. Keith nodded, too confused for the moment to reply. “Good luck!” he called back belatedly, after Lance was already at the cone. How was he so confident? Lance didn’t hesitate at all after the judges nodded, launching directly into the pattern. As he continued, Keith’s eyebrows raised fractionally. Lance’s last pattern had been pretty good, and he’d had a decent day today, placing fourth, fifth, or sixth under every judge in both the showmanship and the pleasure, but if he kept this pattern up like this, he was looking at some firsts.   
Feeling a rush of sudden courage, Keith shot his hand up when the ring steward asked for volunteers to go next. She nodded at him and he cued Ferrari up to the cone. Here goes nothing, he thought. As Lance finished up his ride, the stands erupted in cheers. Even some people they didn’t know personally clapped enthusiastically. He’s good. Really, really good, Keith thought. Duh. You knew that. You’ve shown with him before. But that was a whole new level. Focus, Keith. Breathe. Okay. Here we go.  
Keith tapped Ferrari with his spurs, and so they began.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“‘Altea Performance Horses had a fabulous show! Matt Holt and My Own Cowboy Story, circuit champions Am Walk Trot Hunter Under, Hunt Seat Eq, Showmanship, and Western Pleasure, reserve circuit champs Western Horsemanship, high point Am Walk Trotters.  
Pidge Holt and Artists Choice, circuit champions Novice Youth Hunt Seat Eq, Novice Youth Showmanship, and 13 and Under Showmanship, reserve circuit champions 13 and Under Hunt Seat Eq and Overo Color Halter.   
Hunk Garrett and Golden Promise, circuit champions Yearling Mares, reserve grand champion mare. Hunk Garrett and Pure Gold Zippo, circuit champions Youth Ranch Trail and Youth Ranch Trail, reserve circuit champions Youth Ranch Riding and Youth Ranch Reining, high point Youth 14-18 Ranch Horse. Hunk Garrett and Be Dun Soon, circuit champions Youth and Open Reining.   
Keith Kogane and GSR A Real Prince, circuit champions Youth Trail, Youth Showmanship, and Youth Western Pleasure, reserve circuit champions Youth Western Horsemanship.  
Lance McClain and Iron On Magic, circuit champions Youth Hunt Seat Eq and Youth Horsemanship, reserve circuit champions Youth Hunter Under Saddle. Allura Altea and Pure Gold Zippo, circuit champions Senior Trail. All in all, a pretty good show!’ Did I get everybody?” Allura read out to Coran. 

“Sounds good to me!” he replied, placing a hand on the back of the swivel chair Allura was perched in and spinning it around. “Now. About this night you spent in Mr. Takashi Shirogane’s trailer.” Allura gulped. “That.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the huuuuuge delay omg. Just a lot of things and such plus this chapter was a dooozie! Hope you enjoy!!  
> -Avery
> 
> hey guys again super sorry! this took so long lol especially on the clip hanger like damn we are evil. We hope you enjoyed this chapter! We will try to get the next chapter out a bit quicker! Also idk if any of you watch ric and morty but s3 ep7 was so amazing im still a little shellshocked! Please give us comments and likes bc it gives us our will to live back!  
> \- Flash


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